


Growing Seed

by klepto_maniac0



Series: Seed Universe [3]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Gen, Secret dating, Smut, blue magic, blue magic theory, going off the deep end, lies upon lies, slight crossover elements, still manages to be mostly cheerful and upbeat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:29:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 46
Words: 276,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klepto_maniac0/pseuds/klepto_maniac0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quistis and Seifer ended before they started, but six months after Time Compression get a second chance. And while sorceresses are scary, a whole world against you might just be more difficult. LATEST UPDATE: Monsters attack the subterranean country of New Esthar, with all our heroes trapped inside. </p><p>Preceded by New Seed and Cracked Seed, but is readable without either fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why don't you stop and look me over?  
> Am I the same girl you used to know?  
> Why don't you stop and think it over?  
> Am I the same girl who knew your soul?
> 
> I'm the one you want, and I'm the one you need  
> I'm the one you love, the one you used to meet  
> Around the corner, every day  
> We would meet and slip away  
> But we were much too young to love each other this way  
> Am I the same girl? Yes I am, yes I am.  
> Am I the same girl? Yes I am, yes I am.

9 August 2015

This is a FFVIII fic by klepto_maniac0. I own no concepts and no characters except the ones you've never heard of, which means they're ones I've made. I freely admit I will take liberties with the FFVIII canon because this is an alternate universe fic. That's why some details are different, some events are ignored, and some people don't exist or act in a different capacity. Ain't fanfic fun?

/\/\/\

(six months after Time Compression)

 

Whenever the White SeeD Ship pulled into dock, there was an immediate commotion. First of all, no matter the town, people came to see the ship, which was unmistakable and yet so rarely seen that people more often called it the Ghost Ship, or the Ship of Lost Children. The second name came from the fact that whenever the White SeeD Ship docked, orphans came boiling out of it, eager to run around on land for what was sometimes the first time in months. They were always guarded by hawk-eyed adults in white uniforms, most of them natural mages of the black or red variety. These White SeeDs were closed-mouthed, borderline unfriendly types who typically only came ashore to guard their charges and also do business when it came to resupplying and maintaining the boat.

 

But not everyone left the Ship. There was always a skeleton crew for security purposes, and in this case, as the majority of the Ship went out to explore Dollet, the crew was made up of five people. Cid Kramer, former headmaster of Balamb Garden, sat on the deck and read a magazine, enjoying his retirement and a more active lifestyle that was putting him back to fighting trim quicker than any recommended diet or exercise. Fujin and Raijin, former members of Balamb Garden's Disciplinary Committee, stayed inside the ship. They weren't exactly wanted, but they were definitely persons of interest in the high-profile cases of the last two people on the skeleton crew, Sorceress Edea and her knight, Sir Seifer Almasy.

 

Currently, Edea was walking down the hall in the dorm section of the ship for single people, unconsciously bracing herself as she carried a tray of food to Seifer's room. Seifer always locked himself in his room when they were in port. He _hated_ not being able to leave the ship even though he knew exactly why he had to stay hidden: every month that went by after Time Compression seemed to see a new upper ceiling on the bounty for his capture, dead or alive, and as reckless and impatient as Seifer could be, he would never risk his life for sheer foolishness. If anybody asked what he did with his self-imposed jail time, he would acerbically say he was masturbating the time away.

 

Now Edea was fairly sure he wasn't actually wanking his brains out, though she and Cid had given him a tablet computer a couple months back so the time would go faster in situations like these. At first Edea and Cid had tried to keep Seifer distracted with books or board games, but such things were always short-lived, not to mention that up until about three months ago, Seifer would jump at the sight of Edea and that made both of them feel bad. Seifer swore he didn't hold anything against her—after all, he knew better than anyone else what it was like to be taken over and turned inside out—but the bad memories were still there and sometimes the scars made Seifer tense, snappish, and frightened. In the first few months of Seifer's stay on the boat, he had occasionally stared at Edea like he wasn't sure she was actually there.

 

Of course, he had also been starving, dehydrated, sleep-deprived, recently brought back from the dead, and fighting off an illness that had nearly killed Fujin and Raijin, so he hadn't exactly been his best. Seifer's grip on reality had become stronger the longer he had regular food, exercise, and as much sleep as he could stand, but it wasn't all smooth sailing. The time of madness haunted his dreams, occasionally making Seifer cry out in the night and even destroy things without being fully conscious. Edea understood the depths of his fear better than most.

 

“ _Is she actually gone? It's been so long... She had her hooks in so deep... What if this is an illusion she's made so I'll behave for her? Am I really here? And if I'm not, what am I actually doing?”_

 

Edea dealt with the fear by burying it under purpose and routine. There were children to feed and clothe, enchantments to renew on the Ship, and a relationship with her husband to try fixing. All of these things were just mundane and yet difficult enough to keep Edea grounded in reality. Fujin and Raijin were supportive of Seifer's troubles but didn't have any better idea of how to help now than they had six months ago, when they'd done their best to slow his descent into madness and utterly failed. Sometimes they slept in Seifer's room with him. It seemed like having people around kept Seifer's nightmares at bay, and until they found a more permanent solution, it worked just fine. Edea had offered Seifer medication and sleeping draughts, but he had declined both things almost violently; he seemed very worried about the idea of losing any sort of grasp on the real world. Well, it was understandable.

 

Edea set the tray of food down outside Seifer's door. She'd learned long ago that when he was a port-sulk like this, he'd never open the door no matter how many times she knocked. That was alright with Edea since Seifer was at that age where he needed more privacy and one of the big hallmarks of his time with Ultimecia was her terrifying invasiveness; therefore, Edea was as solicitous and respectful as possible. But as Edea set the food down, she heard an irritated “What?” come from the other side of the door.

 

“I brought you some food,” said Edea, a bit startled at the suddenness of Seifer's bad temper. He wasn't usually so cranky so quickly.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“I know. I just thought—”

 

“Whatever.”

 

Now Edea frowned. She waited a moment. She had  _never_ heard Seifer say 'whatever' in the entire six months he'd been on the White SeeD Ship.

 

“Go away.”

 

She waited a moment longer, listening much more keenly.

 

“What?”

 

“... _he wouldn't dare..._ ” thought Edea, putting her hand on Seifer's door. As an annoyed 'I'm fine' snapped from the other side of the wall, Edea tugged on the latch and found it to be locked, but a whisper of power made the tumblers click and Edea pulled the door to Seifer's room open...

 

...to see the bed not laid in, the window open, and the tablet computer lying on the floor with a loop of Seifer's voice playing through the speakers.

 

The screech of pure maternal rage that echoed through the Ship could be heard from the town. And sitting in a small cafe with a tumbler of ale, Seifer Almasy in heavy disguise laughed aloud and then drank furtively, hoping he wouldn't get murdered when he came back later that day.

 

“ _Still, that worked a lot better than I thought it would,”_ thought Seifer with a little thrill of accomplishment. _“Took her a whole hour. Heh.”_

 

Setting his ale down, Seifer stretched, luxuriating in the sunshine and being out in the world again. The past four months he had been volunteering for laundry duty on the Ship were paying off, and subtly nicking the civilian clothes of the White SeeDs had worked even better than he'd hoped. Worn blue jeans and an untucked collared shirt with a long scarf and blazer disguised his shoulders and waist, and a short-brimmed trilby pulled down low over his White SeeD bandana hid his trademark scar. He had let his facial hair grow out too, stoically ignoring all the names that Fujin and Raijin had rained on him throughout its development—and it hadn't been easy, considering how slowly his scruff grew in the first place. Distractingly it was more reddish than his head hair was, which for the purposes of disguise was fine indeed.

 

It really was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, there was a nice breeze coming off the ocean, and it was just warm enough that ladies were walking around in sundresses, which made Seifer smile as he watched them go up and down the street in front of the cafe. To not to look like a complete creeper, Seifer bought a book and set it down on the table open to somewhere in the middle, so it looked like he was just taking a rest. Lacing his hands behind his back and crossing his legs at the ankle, Seifer breathed more easily than he had in the last six months. It was hard to really relax when Edea, Cid, Fujin, and Raijin were looking over his shoulder all the time, hyper-concerned about any 'abnormal behavior'. Seifer wasn't sure what they were looking for, but Hyne help him if he didn't act a specific sort of way all the time. Then it was all “Are you depressed? Do you want to talk about it?” or “You seem really angry today. Is something wrong?”.

 

“ _Can't a guy just have his moods once in a while? Shit.”_

 

Because honestly, why _wouldn't_ he have moods every now and then? Nightmares aside, occasional doubting of reality aside, guilt attacks that made him want to throw up aside... Seifer was still 18 years old. And that on top of everything else was just a lot.

 

To keep from getting too much into his own head, Seifer kept abreast of the news as much as he could, partly to make sure there were no leads on him and partly out of a masochistic impulse to see how his former enemies/orphanage siblings were doing. The answer was 'sickeningly good'. Selphie had retired from SeeD to become a full time professional party planner and then moved in with Irvine, scandalizing the world and then disappointing everyone by not blowing up in a spectacular manner. Chicken-Wuss Zell was now an Instructor of Advanced Martial Arts at Balamb Garden and otherwise keeping his head down aside from having a rather public fight with his adopted parents; they were pissed he wasn't kowtowing to them all the time and he was pissed _they'd never told him he was adopted._ Seifer didn't particularly like Zell, but he knew whose side he was on.

 

Squall was still the Commander of Balamb Garden and apparently very close with the President of Esthar, who was incidentally the star of Seifer's favorite childhood movie and looked enough like Squall Leonhart that Seifer was starting to have suspicions. Movie stars and politicians got around, after all. Well, most of them did. Rinoa was a politician now too, the official Timberi Liasion to the Galbadian government under her father, Interim President Fury Caraway, and also the Galbadian Ambassador to Esthar, and she was as true as they came. Squall was lucky to have her and in a good mood, Seifer could admit Rinoa was lucky to have Squall too. Squall had a dead fish face and _still_ wasn't the gunbladist that Seifer considered himself to be, but he was loyal and smart, and honestly? So starved for real affection that Rinoa would be treated like a princess always as long as she loved Squall back. So... Yay for them.

 

Which just left Quistis... And thinking about her, seeing her in print, hearing what she was up to, was the most masochistic thing of all, because while Seifer had a few clear memories of his madness, most of them involved Quistis in some way. And his last one was...

 

_She was so warm and she tasted more than sweet. Her presence overwhelmed his senses with the future that might have been if he'd just made a different choice a long time ago. Instead of a renegade knight, he could have been a Commander. Instead of a revolutionary, he could have stayed by her side and really found out if she'd meant it when she'd told him '_ I love you'. _He had to push her away before the yearning for such a romantic never-was brought him to his knees._

 

“Is that good?”

 

Seifer turned around. He nearly fell out of his seat seeing who was talking to him, because of all the people he _never_ expected to see at that moment, Quistis Trepe was at the top of the list. She was wearing a long dress made of vertical panels of soft ivory lace and a short denim jacket with long sleeves. Instead of her usual fishtail with long locks of hair hanging over her shoulders, she'd spun everything into a messy knot and kept it pinned with what looked like Thrustaevis feathers. And distractingly she had bangs, but Seifer knew the curve of her face, the sweet plumpness of her lips, the flash of her brilliant blue eyes far better than anyone ever anticipated and probably better than anyone in the entire world.

 

“ _Love you.”_

 

Seifer swallowed hard, dry-mouthed as his blood rushed in his veins. Fuck. It had been six months since he'd seen Quistis last, in a castle at the end of all time and space. How the fuck was he supposed to talk to her now?

 

“ _Hey there, Quistis. How are you since saving the world? Do you have a boyfriend? No? Wanna come back to my place and..._

 

“ _And..._

 

“ _And see if we can start all over? Or even just pretend for a few hours...?”_

 

“Is that book good?” Quistis repeated, making Seifer realize he was staring at her like a starstruck dumbass. Or worse, the creepy kind of Trepie.

 

“Uhh...” His voice cracked. _So lame._ “I haven't read it yet. But I like everything else the author's written, so I'm giving this one a chance.”

 

Quistis nodded, smiling a bit. She was so beautiful. Seifer hoped he wasn't staring still, but he drank in the sight of her beloved features. They not only inspired nostalgia and lust but were also tied to some of his clearest memories of serving under Ultimecia, usually the ones where he'd really asked himself 'what the fuck am I doing'. But Seifer nearly jumped out of his skin when she sat down at his table.

 

“I like Dillon too,” she said. “My, uh... My ex started me on the series before this one. The Taciel Trilogy. Have you read it?”

 

_My ex._ Holy shit, she was talking about him! “Uh... No,” he lied, instantly wincing inside. “I mean... Yes. Just not in a while.”

 

“ _Calm the fuck down, Almasy! What are you freaking out about, anyway? She doesn't recognize you. She_ _called you an_ ex. _Even if she did know who you were, it's not like she'd snap to!”_

 

Quistis tilted her head, looking him over. She looked so different in a soft gown with no structure, light sideswept bangs, even paint on her nails. Abruptly Seifer realized that she was in disguise too, though her reason was celebrity rather than infamy. He wasn't so cut off from the news in the White SeeD Ship that he didn't know her fanclub had now swelled into the thousands, and now that she was on official sabbatical from SeeD, their favorite game was 'Where in the world is Quistis Trepe now?'

 

“ _Though they can't like her_ that _much if they can't see her through fricking BANGS... They're cute on her, though. Make her look sweeter...”_

 

“What are you drinking?” She asked him, nodding at his booze.

 

“Some sort of ale,” said Seifer. The longer she was around, the more he was calming down and actually thinking that this might be fun. Could he charm her just being himself? They hadn't always been lovey-dovey. Actually, getting together in the first place had been a bizarre series of coincidences involving chewing on pencils and Net pornography. The memory of that two-week whirlwind romance (okay, mostly fooling around when he'd still been a student) still made Seifer smile bittersweetly, but perhaps today they could make some memories without pain.

 

“Wanna try?” He asked, tilting the glass toward her. Quistis looked at him in amusement.

 

“Just tell me the name and I'll try some of my own,” she said.

 

“It's just the house ale.” Seifer drank some, actually studying the taste this time instead of chugging it down. “Mild. Not really bitter. Kinda sweet.”

 

“I smell hints of orange and cinnamon too.”

 

Now Seifer looked at her in surprise. “Oh yeah? Got a good sense of smell?”

 

Quistis smiled at him and Seifer got the weirdest shiver down his spine. “Oh yes,” she said, her lips parting in a way that made his breath come a little shorter. “Very.”

 

“ _She... She doesn't recognize me_ , _does she?”_ Seifer suddenly wondered. _“She'd react differently if she did, right? There's no way_ she'd _be cool, not the girl who wouldn't look at me when I asked to kiss her.”_

 

In fact, the longer Seifer looked at Quistis, the more he became convinced that she had no idea who he was and he relaxed even as his heart twanged with disappointment.

 

“So what brings you to Dollet?” He asked her, picking up his ale. Pretending that he had no idea who she was, he added, “Unless you're local.”

 

“Definitely not local,” said Quistis, looking amused. “And I'm here for the Grand Library. I'm trying to collect information on blue magic. I was supposed to go to Shumi Village first, but the weather delayed me and then I just decided to stay.”

 

“Cool. So what've you found out?”

 

Quistis cocked her head, her amused smile slowly widening to a genuinely pleased one. Seifer felt a little thrill of pleasure go through his chest and found himself smiling back. He had the feeling people didn't ask her about blue magic much, or at least not out of genuine interest. Blue magic didn't have the best reputation, especially if the person with the opinion was prejudiced. Uusually it was something about man mixing with monster and yadda yadda yadda who gave a shit, Seifer sure didn't.

 

“Well, I found a lot of interesting folklore,” said Quistis, her gaze dropping charmingly to her side as she slung a messenger bag off her shoulder. She pulled out no less than three thick books, all color-coded with paper tabs in a variety of different positions, and Seifer had to suppress a snicker: he just _knew_ she'd mark books like that. “Some semi-religious things too. It's very weird and frustrating. I was hoping for more real information.”

 

“Like what?”

 

Quistis looked directly at him, her eyes seeming very blue. “Well...” She said slowly. “One of the rarest but most infamous side effects of blue magic is actually turning into the monster whose skill you consume. I was hoping to find something that would prevent that from happening.”

 

Seifer nodded as he took a long drink of his ale. He was familiar with that side effect. Six months ago in Lunatic Pandora, Quistis had gone from half-leopard to full woman in his arms, and up until that point had been purring and rubbing all over him. That had been weird as hell and had obviously made quite the impression on her too, because she was looking at him like she was expecting him to flip out on her any second. But it lasted only a short while.

 

“Unfortunately, I can't seem to find anything about the subject that's been written by blue mages themselves,” sighed Quistis. She ran her hand over the books, making Seifer glance down at the covers. Two were fairly standard textbooks, but the third looked like a roleplaying manual, printed to look like leather with brass fittings and a strange symbol on the cover.

 

“That one looks pretty cool,” he said, nodding at the third book.

 

“Yes, it _looks_ cool,” said Quistis with such annoyance that Seifer couldn't help but laugh. “Honestly, it's been the biggest disappointment of the bunch. It's a copy of a copy and so stuffed with religious idiocy that I mostly have it just to look at the pictures.”

 

“Can I?” He asked, holding out his free hand.

 

“If I get to trade you,” she said, nodding at his ale. Amused, Seifer handed her his drink and took the large, heavy book from her, and as he opened it up he saw her take a drink from his glass. Hadn't she gotten forward in six months?

 

“ _This could be fun in an entirely different way,”_ thought Seifer as he opened the book and looked down.

 

At once he was dismayed that Quistis found this book to be so frustrating, because it was easily the most gorgeous book Seifer had ever laid eyes on in real life. Done in the style of an illuminated manuscript, the blocky calligraphy instantly evoked an era of castles and shining armor and was surrounded by dense, beautiful illustrations in colors that seemed to explode off each page, lined with black and gleaming gold leaf. And the illustrations themselves were a fascinating combination of medieval stylization, alchemical imagery, and anatomical diagramming. The bottom third of each page was taken up with translations, which was where Seifer at last understood Quistis's distaste, because they were just  _weird._

 

The Alraune is a beaste of fell distraction

Daughters, take the the pollen unto thyselves to become the heart of desire

Sons, take the petals over thyselves to become the definition of longing

Under the blessings of the Great Eve

Go forth to spread revolution

 

“Where did you get this?” He asked her, turning the page and sighing at the heart-stoppingly beautiful rendition of a Ruby Dragon curling around five thick lines of calligraphy.

 

“It's on loan from the Grand Library,” she said. “Hence why I have your beer: it absolutely cannot get wet.”

 

“Sure, sure... Wow.” Seifer turned the page again and shook his head. “No wonder you like this for the pictures.”

 

“Yes...” Quistis smiled. “They are rather inspirational, aren't they...? I'll confess, when I get frustrated with my research, sometimes I'll copy out of the book to relax my mind again.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Seifer lifted his head. “Can I see?”

 

“Somehow I knew you would ask,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a spiralbound sketchbook. Now Seifer smirked, wondering if he'd find any pictures of the x-rated variety in here, but surely she wouldn't hand something like that to a total stranger. On the other hand, he hadn't ever seen her draw anything that wasn't suggestive, so this was going to be intimate in a different way. Seifer opened the notebook and was surprised that the very first picture was actually a series of rough anatomical sketches clearly drawn from people in passing.

 

“If you want to see the monster drawings, they're about a third of the way through,” she said, still holding onto his ale. “The beginning of that is all gestures.”

 

“Gestures?”

 

“Just quick sketches of people,” said Quistis as Seifer turned the page and saw miniature sketches of faces.

 

“You're really good,” he said sincerely.

 

“Thanks,” she said. “Now tell me about you.”

 

“What?” Seifer looked up, surprised.

 

“I've been talking this entire time,” she said, tilting her head prettily. “I'd like to hear more about the person whose beer I'm stealing.”

 

“Number one, that is an ale,” he said, nevertheless smirking. “And number two... I'm a man of mystery. And I like it that way.”

 

“Now that's hardly fair,” said Quistis, a smile curving her lips. “I've been telling you about my research, showing you my art... And all I know is that you like Dillon and ale _.”_

 

“ _When did you get so smooth?”_ Seifer wondered. What had she been doing with herself for these past six months?

 

“Well, I try not to turn on the charm for just anyone,” he said, trying a little smoothness himself. “Especially when I don't know if you're single. It'd be a little embarrassing to put it all out there for someone who isn't interested.”

 

Quistis laughed, making Seifer's heart squeeze with the first time he'd ever really seen her laugh. He couldn't remember what he'd said, but he remembered how she looked—startled at first, then surprised out of her stiff Instructor self, and totally and wonderfully amused.

 

“I am single,” she assured him.

 

“Hard to believe.”

 

“Not really,” she said, her eyes flicking to the ground. “I have high standards.”

 

“Like what?”

 

She was quiet for a while, looking into the ale. Seifer waited, but a bar girl came around just then and asked what he wanted.

 

“Another one of those,” he said, gesturing at his stolen alcohol; Quistis flushed a bit and tried to hand it back, but he waved her off and the bar girl nodded knowingly. “So, your standards?”

 

“Hm... Well, he has to be a good conversationalist. And a good listener. Patient. Respectful.” A glint came into her eye as she added, “And absolutely dynamite in bed.”

 

Seifer burst out laughing. “Not pulling any punches, are you?” He asked even as he exulted in his mind,  _“She thinks I'm dynamite in bed! Yeah!”_

 

“Life is short,” she said, and her gaze unexpectedly sobered as she added, “And even then, people can change, sometimes overnight. So...”

 

Seifer's grip tightened on her sketchbook. He took a breath and consciously relaxed, keeping his voice light as he said, “Do you miss your ex?”

 

“Oh yes,” said Quistis, making his heart stop for a second. “Very much.”

 

“Really?”

 

Quistis nodded, her eyes half-closing. “I... I never really got closure. It ended very strangely... I was chasing after him and he walked away from me. I don't think he even knew I was there.”

 

“ _When the fuck did that happen?”_ Seifer wondered, a chill going through his stomach. He remembered interacting with Quistis in Lunatic Pandora—kissing her and telling her goodbye—but obviously she was thinking of something else. The fuck? _“I'd never consciously turn my back on you...”_

 

“But even before that, I still missed him,” sighed Quistis, her gaze going distant. “He, uh... Well, I guess he fell in with a bad crowd. And he turned strange. Cruel.”

 

“Did he hurt you?” Seifer asked, his mouth going dry. _“Did I hurt you?”_

 

Quistis didn't say anything for a while, which just confirmed Seifer's worst suspicions. He wanted to set something on fire even though she said, “Hurt... Not really. I don't think so, anyway. He was just very confusing and even more confused himself. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd just tried harder to get him back...”

 

“You did the best you could,” said Seifer, his gaze dropping to the ground. “It sounds like he fucked up on his own.”

 

“Personally, I think he had help,” said Quistis, her lips thinning. “But... In the end, he was himself. That's all that matters.”

 

“You think?” Seifer asked quietly. “All the damage he did before... To you, to others... That doesn't matter all of a sudden?”

 

“That's not what I meant,” said Quistis, sounding a little annoyed. “Of course there are consequences for any actions. But when it comes to blame... Who's to say what he was actually responsible for? As far as I'm concerned, he was a totally different person when he wasn't himself. And the one I loved... Well, he was there, but he was trapped.”

 

“ _Trapped... More like drugged. Deluded. Weak.”_

 

The bar girl came back and set the ale by Seifer's hand, making him nod in appreciation. The interruption was just enough for Quistis to shake her head and sit up a little straighter.

 

“Well, this got depressing,” she said with a self-deprecating smile. “So. I think we were _supposed_ to talk about you. Why are you in Dollet?”

 

“Traveling with family,” said Seifer, glad for the change. He owed her answers, real ones, but he couldn't stomach talking about Ultimecia today. Not now when they were both sitting together and chatting for the first time in so long. Not when it felt good and right just being himself again. “We kind of go all over the place.”

 

“Sounds nice. Any favorite places?”

 

“Here,” he said, gesturing with his new ale. “Balamb. Deling City.”

 

“Where's your family now?” She asked, tilting her head.

 

“Well... My folks are back on the ship,” said Seifer, unable to keep from smiling as he remembered Edea's screech of rage. “And my army of younger siblings is running the older ones ragged.”

 

“How many family members do you have?” Quistis asked, looking amused.

 

Seifer did a mental tally in his head. “I'd say... Eight that count. The rest I'm just related to.”

 

Quistis chuckled. “And what exactly sets these special siblings apart from the rest?”

 

“Hmm...” Seifer smirked. “I'd say... Dumbassery.”

 

“Dumbassery,” she repeated, and the reality of intelligent, by-the-book Quistis Trepe saying 'dumbassery' was so funny that Seifer practically grinned ear to ear.

 

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “There was this game we played as kids... Involved a buncha Dollet rockets and fast reflexes. We called it Wizard Battle.” Quistis started laughing as Seifer said, “It was awesome. Even though one exploded in my shirt.”

 

“ _I wonder if she remembers that,”_ Seifer thought as Quistis actually wiped her eyes. _“She's the one who came up with the name...”_

 

“And then there was the time one of my brothers set off the sprinklers all over school,” he said, which made her laugh harder. “And then one of my sisters pulled me out a tree when I wouldn't do my exercise. She broke my arm.”

 

“What?”

 

“ _You don't remember that?”_ Seifer almost asked her. He bit his tongue at the last second and changed tactics. “So for school, there was this time when we had to run laps, lots of them. Tons and tons. And I hated it. I still hate running, but those laps are _why_. Anyway, I had this idea of climbing up in a tree and hiding out, and one of my sisters caught me doing it. Ooh, was she mad.”

 

“ _Seifer! That's_ cheating! _” shouted thirteen-year-old Quistis, her hair pulled back in an unforgiving ponytail._

 

“ _Mind your own business!” Seifer shot back, climbing higher into the tree._

 

“ _Get down here right now!”_

 

“ _Make me!”_

 

“So then what happened?” Quistis asked, sipping her ale.

 

“Well, she pulled me down and made me do 'em,” said Seifer, chuckling at the memory. He remembered the spark in little Quistis's eyes, the half-run up the tree trunk and the flying leap, and how she managed to snag his leg and hang on until he lost his grip and they both fell to the ground in a yelling heap. He _quite_ clearly remembered the pain shooting through his left forearm, but Quistis had been so self-righteous about the entire incident that he pretended like nothing was wrong and only went to the infirmary after class. Fortunately he'd already been using a gunblade one-handed whenever he could get away with it, so the slight weakness that remained in his arm even now didn't slow him down.

 

“You sound like you're fond of them.”

 

“Well... They are family,” said Seifer, thinking of how annoying Zell and Squall could be in particular. And how Selphie probably would never consider him anything but an enemy ever again... Pity. He remembered her fearlessness and how she'd transferred so recently that she didn't look at him with judgment in her eyes.

 

“And what do you do for fun?” Quistis asked.

 

“ _Plot ways to escape the Ship,”_ thought Seifer, unconsciously glancing toward the harbor. Aloud he said, “Read. Watch movies. I'm afraid I'm not really that interesting.”

 

“Oh, I doubt that,” said Quistis, making a little shiver go through his stomach again. “And... Are you single?”

 

“Yes,” he said, trying to figure out what to say. As the words came to him, Seifer's eyes dropped to the ground and he said, “I got out of a really bad relationship about six months ago. Older woman. Waaay older woman. It was a bad time.”

 

“Oh...” Quistis seemed stunned. He hoped she knew he wasn't talking about her. “I'm sorry.”

 

“Nah, it was my fault,” he said, shaking his head. “I, uh... I wanted to impress her. Badly. Now I'm not even sure why I wanted to, because at the time I had... Well, a really amazing girl I really, really liked. That I loved. And I... I did her so wrong. It haunts me.”

 

“Six whole months later, it still haunts you?” Quistis asked softly.

 

Seifer closed his eyes. He hadn't wanted to talk about Ultimecia or what she'd done in his life. But in vague terms like this, well... Somehow it was easier. And it felt truer in an utterly bizarre way.

 

“ _Plus if anyone deserves answers... It's Quistis.”_

 

“I'm still scared of what happened to me,” Seifer said slowly, opening his eyes. But he still couldn't meet Quistis's gaze, so he spoke to the ground as he said, “I changed so fast. For someone who wasn't even worth it. She kinda strung me up. She made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. And you know, when you have a lot of, uh... Siblings... And you've kind of got this reputation for being an asshole no matter how hard you try... Well, hearing someone say that you're the best is really... It _was_ really worth something. Except it was all lies, she just used me and nearly got me killed a bunch of times and now... Now I'm picking up the pieces. And sort of wanted in a couple of places.”

 

“It's good she's out of your life,” said Quistis, which made Seifer's hand tighten around his ale.

 

“...Sometimes I don't feel like she is,” he said, shaking his head. “I have...nightmares. And the things she said to me, they worked because I still... I still want to be the best.”

 

“ _I want to be someone who matters,”_ went through the back of his mind. “ _I want someone to feel utterly safe with me. I want to trust again, completely. That's always been hard for me but now I think it's impossible...”_

 

Aloud Seifer said, “She really fucked me up. I gave her everything I had, but it wasn't enough, and when I started seeing through her bullshit...”

 

Unconsciously Seifer rubbed his chest. He still had the scar from the lethal wound Ultimecia had opened in his heart and the look in her molten-gold eyes as she watched him bleed out still shocked him awake at night. Dying slowly, unable to do anything, watching the world grey out and go cold, narrowing to just those burning bonfire eyes... Seifer took a drink of ale, swallowing the ripple of fear at the same time. Edea had told him he'd recover eventually... But on whose timeline? Edea had housed Ultimecia's consciousness for ten years and had been freed 'eventually'.

 

“ _I want to forget her. I want to move on.”_

 

There were too many dead people for that to be possible, though. Seifer read the news. He knew his body count, especially from the Lunar Cry. Complications from destroyed buildings, spilled chemicals, illnesses, infections, and even post-traumatic stress suicides, all of them went into a tally that at his last check had been over 150,000.

 

“ _There's never going to be any 'moving on' for me, is there?”_

 

Quistis reached across the table and touched his hand, making him jump. Her eyes were pained but compassionate.

 

“She didn't break you,” said Quistis, making Seifer wish she was talking to _him_ and not some stranger she was meeting in a bar. She wouldn't be so kind to him, not after everything he'd done. “And she didn't ruin you. She just pulled you around for a while.”

 

“Pulled around, pulled apart...” Seifer nevertheless uncurled his hand, slowly twining his fingers with Quistis's. He knew she'd smack him if she didn't like what he was doing. “Same difference.”

 

“Big difference,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. Great Hyne, she was looking at him like she knew him. Seifer hoped and dreaded it was so.

 

The server came around and asked if they wanted any food, to which they said yes. They moved onto lighter subjects—the Taciel books, how the weather had been, what their plans were for the next few days. The White SeeD Ship needed some extensive repairs to one of its engines, which had been fouled in a battle with a Sea Dragon, and they would be in port for the next two days. Before he could stop himself, Seifer asked if Quistis would meet him for lunch again tomorrow.

 

“ _Matron will fucking_ murder _you tonight, what the hell makes you think you can make a fucking lunch date?”_ Seifer swore furiously at himself even as his heart soared when Quistis said yes. He continued to heap abuse on himself even as they set a more definite time and even a place near the university; Quistis drew him a map and a rough sketch of what the outside looked like so he wouldn't get lost. Seifer smiled, remembering a much racier sketch she had done for him months ago, and wondered if they could get to that point in the next three days. It was much more pleasant than drowning in all his own self-hatred.

 

“ _Like you even deserve to touch her... You hit her with fire. You throttled her. You stuck her with drugs. And then in D-District Prison, you_ fucked _her while she was out of her mind_... _You sick bastard. You made her so she wasn't right and then you raped her when she couldn't say no, not with so much on the line. She shouldn't have stopped at knocking you out..._

 

“ _Why are you even still alive, Almasy? You're not worth anything. You're only putting a target on everyone on the Ship. Look at you, assholing around, sneaking off the Ship, lying to people who only want to help you... What if someone recognized you? What if everyone on the Ship dies when every bounty hunter and freelancer in the world comes for the price on your head?_

 

“ _And all you can think about is how you can see Quistis one more time, you selfish son of a bitch.”_

 

After lunch and another round of ales, Seifer and Quistis parted ways. She said she needed to hit the books again, which made Seifer momentarily hate reading, but what eased his heart was that she looked regretful too.

 

“I'm only here for another week before I'm off to Trabia,” she said. “So I need to make the most of my time. Pity... I like talking to you.”

 

“I'll see you tomorrow,” he promised, hoping he could keep it. When Quistis smiled, he gathered the warmth of it to his chest, using it to block the hissing noises in his head that told him he was going to fuck everything up again.

 

Quistis tilted her head, looking at him with an unmistakably fond expression, and then quite unexpectedly she went up on her toes and pressed her lips softly to his. Seifer forgot how to breathe. Unconsciously he leaned forward as she drew back, not wanting her to go.

 

“Bye,” she said, stepping back with a shy smile.

 

“Bye...” Seifer said, unable to keep one off his face. The warm, chaste touch of her lips stayed with him as he walked back to the dock. He'd freaked out Edea long enough and he might as well go back while he was flying high.

 

Seifer had originally escaped by climbing out his window and swimming to the dock with his disguise clothes in a waterproof bag, but he wasn't going to sneak back in like a guilty teenager: Edea already knew what he'd done, so he might as well face her like a man. Nevertheless as he approached the Ship, Seifer saw Cid looking at him severely from the rail and felt a chill go through his stomach. Damn. He'd been so fixated on Edea he'd forgotten about Cid, and he could feel the former headmaster's eyes boring into his head so hard that Seifer hunched under the pressure. Silently Seifer walked up the gangplank, feeling like he was losing a year with every step until he stood in front of Cid, scuffing his toe on the ground like he was six years old again.

 

“She's in her office,” said Cid, his voice very cold. Seifer cringed inside, but he managed a short nod. Cid did not reprimand very often. He didn't need to. Seifer was so used to years of platitudes and praise from Cid that anything less felt like a slap or at the very least, a snub. He was too disappointed to even interact with Seifer.

 

“ _Prelude's done. Time to face the symphony.”_

 

Seifer went belowdecks. Almost instantly he felt the effects of Edea's anger, which manifested in the temperature dropping several degrees. The lower Seifer went into the Ship, the colder the air became until Seifer was breathing clouds of steam in front of a door rimed with an inch of frost, and more ice flowers bloomed in meticulous patterns before his eyes. Seifer took a deep breath and held it until the icy air warmed in his chest, and as he exhaled he knocked on the door.

 

And silently, the door slid open. Seifer looked in and saw Edea sitting in her chair, squarely facing the door, her entire body relaxed except for her eyes. Her amber-colored eyes had always been a shade darker than Ultimecia's but now they burned just as hot. Seifer swallowed and took a step inside, trying not to jump as the door slid shut behind him. The more sorceress power leaked out of Edea, the madder she was.

 

“Why?” Edea asked, her voice as soft and yet as cutting as an arctic wind. Seifer thought carefully about what he wanted to say, and the phantom kiss he still felt on his lips seemed to give him strength.

 

“Because I deserve to be happy too,” said Seifer quietly, meeting Edea's gaze. He saw the lights in her eyes flare... And then die back to her usual glow. The air started to warm. But Seifer didn't take anything for any sort of positive sign until Edea passed her hand over her eyes and sighed. The fine wrinkles on her face seemed to become more pronounced as divine power faded underneath mortality.

 

“You do,” she said softly. “And I don't want you to feel that you are being confined here.”

 

“But I am. We both know that.” Seifer folded his arms, digging his fingertips into his bicep. “Matron... Edea...”

 

She lifted her head when he called her by name, looking at him like he was an adult instead of a troubled boy.

 

“I can't stay on this boat forever,” Seifer said, shaking his head. “It was fine when Fujin and Raijin were recovering. And it was fine when I wasn't sure _she_ was dead and wasn't coming to get me. But the longer I stay here, the more dangerous it is for everyone. The bounty's at 5 million and all it takes is one person...”

 

“I know.” Edea sighed heavily. “And I've given it some thought as well.”

 

“You have?”

 

Edea nodded, her gaze becoming unhappy. “It's not just the bounty... It's you. Yourself. You're not learning anything new and you have no goals, and it's making you very unhappy. To be honest... I've been afraid you would do something foolish for a while now. Particularly in battle.”

 

Seifer had to look away. Edea wasn't wrong. He was bored as fuck on the White SeeD Ship and every time they encountered sea monsters or pirates or something he could destroy, he went hard at it. And damn the damages, especially to himself. One of the things he hadn't really been able to feel as Ultimecia's knight had been pain, so fighting, getting a little hurt... It helped. It made him keep track of what was actually happening. It reassured him that he wasn't still under mind control or hallucinating somewhere while his body did things he didn't want it to do.

 

“ _Hopefully I'm not gonna need that safety anymore... Not if something good takes its place. Ah, it was so good to see her today...”_

 

“I will permit you to go off-ship tomorrow,” said Edea, making Seifer look at her in shock. “Provided that you allow me to do some sorcery on you.”

 

Now Seifer sucked his breath sharply over his teeth, a chill that had nothing to do with Edea's anger freezing his skin. Edea simply sat patiently until he could breathe again. Seifer was understandably very jittery when it came to sorcery, though this trembling was better than automatically turning and leaving the room.

 

“What... What kind of sorcery?” He asked haltingly, unconsciously hugging himself as he thought, _“This is Matron. She wouldn't hurt me. She wouldn't. She created this entire Ship because she didn't want her children to get hurt...”_

 

“Cosmetic,” she said. “A little enchantment. It wouldn't be on _you_ , exactly, but rather... _On_ you. Like an Odine device, except with sorcery rather than technology.”

 

Seifer exhaled forcefully. Something he could take on and off of his own free will was infinitely less terrifying than _more_ magic being cut on his skin. His fingers flexed restlessly on his arms as he shivered at the memory of diamond-sharp points all over his body. _“If you love me, you won't resist.”_

 

Choice. Autonomy. Ultimecia had never really given him either.

 

“Okay,” he said to Edea, making her nod. “I'll do it. I mean... I'll let you do it. Thanks.”

 

“You're welcome,” said Edea, her eyes softening with appreciation. Seifer had no idea just how much of a relief hearing those words from him was. She had been very, very careful not to use her powers on him even though she knew she could banish his nightmares, his fears, and even his memories of that terrible time with just a touch. They were still connected on levels that were not explainable since Ultimecia had fed her power through Edea's body, but Seifer essentially clapped his hands over his ears and started singing whenever Edea tried to tell him what was happening. In the end, she'd given up. They hadn't talked about sorcery in months. And as for the psychological effects of what had happened, that was like talking to a wall.

 

“Now, ideally this enchantment will be set in a piece of jewelry since metal holds sorcery well and it must also stay close to your skin,” said Edea, thinking about what he was letting her do. “But there is no spare metal on the ship, nor spare jewelry...”

 

“There's some spare metal,” said Seifer, his eyes flickering.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Hyperion.”

 

“Your gunblade?” Edea asked, surprised.

 

“It... Hasn't worked right since everything,” Seifer said, sighing. Like Ultimecia had abused him, he'd abused his custom-made gunblade, repeatedly wreathing it in fire to destroy not-enemies. “It doesn't hold an edge anymore. The barrel's warped too, so it doesn't even fire. It's just...useless.”

 

“Is that why you've been using fire lore exclusively for the past six months?”

 

Seifer nodded. Literally the only good thing out of his entire ordeal with Ultimecia was that she'd reconnected him to his birthright, elemental fire lore that was like Fujin's wind and Raijin's lightning. Seifer did like being able to throw fireballs at a moment's notice.

 

“I'll get it now,” he said, but as he turned to go, Edea held up her hand. “What?”

 

“You are unusually eager,” she said, making Seifer's lips thin. “What happened in town?”

 

Seifer hesitated. But he was getting pretty good at telling the truth without _telling_ the truth. “I met a girl.”

 

“Oh?” Edea looked wary. “What sort of girl?”

 

“A good one,” he said, smiling.

 

“Hmm,” said Edea, sitting back in her chair. “Well. We'll see. Please go and fetch Hyperion so we can work as soon as possible.”

 

Seifer nodded. He left Edea's office and set off for his room and a jog, and by now enough time had passed that the air was once again a normal summer temperature. As he neared his room, two doors flew open and Fujin and Raijin popped out, their faces flooding with relief. And then...

 

“RAGE!”

 

“You have any idea how freaked out we were?” Raijin shouted, socking Seifer in the arm. Real lightning, not cheap para-magic shit, rocked Seifer's right arm and made it spasm. Seifer clutched the affected limb and cursed.

 

“You guys woulda narced on me and you know it,” Seifer snapped, making the both of them glare.

 

“Narc?!” Raijin repeated, his eyes starting to glow.

 

“POSSE,” Fujin shouted, a tight cyclone of wind lifting her short hair.

 

“Babysitters!” He shot back, pointing at the two of them.

 

“Oh yeah, because the _last time_ we let you run off alone, it was _sooo_ good!” Raijin snapped. Seifer glared, narrowed his eyes, and Raijin yelped as his sleeve caught a little bit on fire. While Raijin smacked out the flames, Seifer ducked into his room and pulled Hyperion off the wall. He kept the warped weapon by the door, looking at it every day as a reminder of his failures. When Fujin and Raijin saw him come out with it, they both fell silent.

 

“What?” Seifer demanded, feeling awkward. “Look, Edea's doing something with it. Maybe now it'll stop being useless.”

 

“FIX?”

 

“No... Repurpose.” Seifer started to smile reluctantly. “She's working on something that'll let me get off the ship.”

 

Fujin and Raijin's eyes went wide. “Whoa...” Raijin breathed. “Really? That's a big step, man.”

 

“Yeah,” said Fujin, her voice soft with shock. “Temporary? Or...”

 

“...Well, I'm not planning to _leave_ the Ship right now,” said Seifer, making both of them relax. “But I will. Soon. I need something to do with myself these days.”

 

“We'll go too,” said Raijin immediately.

 

“Guys, no,” said Seifer, and as they instantly bristled, he said, “People will expect all of us to be traveling together. It'd be safer—”

 

“No,” said Raijin, shaking his head.

 

“Look, it's not like you were able to stop me last time,” said Seifer, feeling only a little bad when they both flushed and looked away. “And I'd rather you guys be safe. You know that.”

 

“We remember,” said Fujin, nodding. “But... WORRY.”

 

“I'm not leaving yet,” he reminded her. “And I promise I won't leave without saying goodbye.”

 

Fujin nodded. Raijin still looked unhappy but he didn't try to stop Seifer as the blond went down the hall back to Edea's office.

 

As Edea had always done her best work with drawing, she was carefully scripting out her desired spells when Seifer came back with Hyperion.

 

“Oh my,” she said as soon as she saw the gunblade. Seifer flushed with embarrassment, but held up the visibly warped weapon for her scrutiny.

 

“Jet-engine flames aren't good for gunblades,” he said dryly. “Who knew?”

 

Edea took the battered weapon and turned it over in her hands. It was honestly a miracle that it hadn't melted outright considering how often Seifer had covered it in fire.

 

“You need a real sword,” she murmured. “Something that supports your ability better. But in the meantime...”

 

Edea set her hands on the blade, concentrated powers in her palms, and broke Hyperion into its component parts. Seifer nearly jumped out of his skin.

 

“This, this...” Edea touched the components as they floated gently in the air; the ones she'd selected reappeared on her desk. “And this. The rest of this we will not need.”

 

“Shit,” said Seifer, then lunged forward to catch the pieces of the gun part of the gunblade as they abruptly dropped. Edea went back to working on her spell writing, which Seifer observed with interest.

 

“What's that?”

 

“The overall sign or that particular mark?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Edea laughed. In a way, it was like when Seifer was very small and pointed at pictures in books, noticing little details that no one else did.

 

“This sign is to confuse people who are looking at you,” she said, tapping the overall glyph. “Specifically, it will make you look nonthreatening, but not at all memorable.”

 

“So what would they see when they look at me?”

 

“They'll see a man who appears to be around your age,” said Edea, tapping a different part of the glyph. “Not particularly fit or unfit. Neither tall nor short. Your hair and skin color will be whatever they think is most normal and nonthreatening.”

 

“Sounds vague.”

 

“It's actually quite thorough,” said Edea with a bit of a smile. “And it'll be different for each person that looks at you, so if anyone asks about your whereabouts, they will have no consistent information. However, once a person sees you as one particular shape, they will consistently recognize you in that shape.”

 

Edea continued to work with Seifer looking over her shoulder and periodically asking questions. Using sorcery, Edea split Hyperion's warped blade into a series of thumbnail-sized plates shaped like dragon scales and for strength and security, each plate was enchanted with a single sign instead of a more complex glyph. Seifer watched intently even as Edea felt discomfort roiling off him in waves, and she took care to explain every step of what she was doing. No matter how technical or mystical she got with her explanations, Seifer listened attentively and as his knowledge increased, his worries lessened.

 

Nevertheless, there came a time when Edea had to work silently, and Seifer passed it by looking around her office. Despite being windowless, her office avoided feeling cramped or dark by using blond wood, natural-spectrum lighting, and making extremely clever use of space. Seifer walked around the office and found himself in front of Edea's bookshelf, which was bolted to the wall with its contents held in with wide elastic straps to stop them from falling out in hard weather. Seifer skimmed the covers until he saw something that looked oddly familiar. It was a large leatherbound volume that gleamed with a patina of age, and when Seifer pulled it out of the shelf and flipped it open, he was stunned to see that it looked like the freaking _original_ of the book that Quistis had had earlier. It felt much heavier too, and when Seifer opened the book, the smell of real vellum hit him like a hammer.

 

“Matron, what is this?” Seifer asked, making Edea look over her shoulder.

 

“Oh, it's a book about blue magic,” she said, looking back at her work. “I use it for some of the children who are so inclined.”

 

“You mean it has useful stuff in it?”

 

“Yes,” said Edea, nodding. “Originals always do. Though I can't read it all, it wasn't made for me.”  
  


“Made for you?” Seifer frowned. “What do you mean? A book's a book, isn't it?”

 

“And light is light, but some people can see hundreds of colors while others can only see eight.”

 

Seifer looked at the book again, frowning. He could hear Quistis's annoyed voice—“ _It's a copy of a copy”—_ and wondered if she might see something different.

 

“Matron, can I borrow this?” Seifer asked, making Edea look at him in surprise. “I like the pictures.”

 

“Ah,” she said, nodding. “It does have lovely illustrations. You can keep it if you like. I've gleaned everything useful out of it.”

 

“Thanks.” Seifer closed the book, smiling. Tomorrow was going to be interesting indeed.

 

By the time Edea was finished with the plates, the Ship was starting to thrum with activity—people were coming back.

 

“Is it done?” Seifer asked as Edea joined the plates together with little rings of metal, creating two scale mail bracelets.

 

“Yes,” she said after giving them one last check-over. “Let's try them out. We'll walk together and say hello to everyone.”

 

Seifer nodded and fastened one bracelet around each wrist. He braced for burning, prickling, any sort of discomfort that Ultimecia's magic had always inflicted on him, but there was nothing. Seifer looked down at the bracelets and then at Edea. He'd _seen_ her do things to them.

 

“Are they working?” He asked her.

 

“They are,” she said.

 

“How come I'm not lighting up like New Year, then?” Usually the magic-induced scars under his skin from Ultimecia flared whenever he was touched by sorcery.

 

“Because the sorcery is being done on other people, just being worn by you,” she said, making Seifer frown at her. “Seeing is believing. Follow me.”

 

So they went outside into the hall. Edea went first and as she turned, saw Orizon coming around the corner. Orizon was the leader of the White SeeDs and one of her oldest children, as well as one of the most accomplished black mages on the Ship.

 

“Hey Matron,” he said, but at once his eyes flicked up and went hard. Edea looked over her shoulder to see that Seifer had come outside and she smelled ozone burning as Orizon started to cast. “Look out!”

 

With a snap of her hand, Edea flung a shield up in front of Seifer just in time as Orizon threw a column of Thundaga down the narrow hall. Instinctively Seifer braced, but the lightning absorbed harmlessly into the shield and Edea sighed in relief.

 

“There's a stranger on the ship!” Orizon exclaimed.

 

“You ass, it's me!” Seifer shouted back, though he sounded half-excited.

 

“Who's me?!”

 

“Seifer! I'm under an enchantment.”

 

Orizon looked at him, eyes narrowed, then at Edea, who nodded. When he looked back at Seifer, Edea could see the recognition and shock blooming across his face.

 

“Holy shit, that's weird,” Orizon said, eyes widening. “It's like... You just melted into yourself again.”

 

“What did you see before?” Edea asked curiously.

 

“Just nobody I knew,” said Orizon, shrugging. “And on this boat, that doesn't bode well.”

 

Very true. Edea had raised the White SeeDs to be a paranoid bunch. “Did he seem inherently dangerous to you?”

 

“No, just strange.” Orizon looked at Seifer, grinning. “That was cool. Go back to being the other guy again.”

 

“He can't,” said Edea, making Orizon look at her in surprise. “You know who he's supposed to be now, so you'll always see him.”

 

“Huh,” said Orizon, and then looked at Seifer more closely. “Hey! That's my shirt! I've been looking for that for months!”

 

“Oh yeah...” Seifer had forgotten he was wearing other peoples' clothes. “Heh.”

 

“Heh, my ass! Gimme my shirt back! Wait... What other of my clothes have you stolen?”

 

“I don't know,” said Seifer truthfully. He'd been stealing a lot of clothes. When Orizon growled, Seifer just laughed and said, “Look, I promise I'll give everything back when I'm done with it. I'm going off the Ship tomorrow.”

 

“Wait, what?” Orizon stared. He looked at Edea. “Matron, are you sure that's safe?”

 

“Orizon, you didn't recognize him and you've been on the Ship with him for six months,” she said. Orizon blinked and then chuckled ruefully.

 

“Okay, okay,” he said, smiling lightly. “I guess that's fair. Still... I'm not sure how I feel about you running around by yourself.”

 

“I didn't set the town on fire this afternoon,” said Seifer, which made Orizon blink and then stare.

 

“You already _left_ _ **the SHIP?!”**_ Orizon bellowed, turning red impressively fast. He took his leaderly duties very seriously. “You ASSHOLE! What if someone had followed you?”

 

“Hey, which one of us has actually trained in infiltration, deception, and getting people off their backs?” Seifer shot back, making Orizon sputter. “I'm still a Black SeeD, Orizon. I passed my field exam in _this_ town last year. Don't fuckin' underestimate me.”

 

“Seifer, language,” Edea admonished.

 

“Don't _friggin'_ underestimate me,” said Seifer exaggeratedly, making Edea sigh and shake her head.

 

That night Seifer went to bed but was too full of anticipation to sleep. So he stayed up and flipped through the blue magic book instead, staring at the illustrations and marveling at the intricacy of detail. As he went further on in the book, the drawings became steadily stranger and started to depict truly fantastic beasts Seifer had never even heard of before, as well as more abstract pictures that seemed utterly bizarre. He was very amused by everything up until the last page.

 

There were no words on this page. The entire thing was taken up with a downward-pointing arch made of monsters and creatures that seemed more like demons. A semicircle of shocking blue took up the entire top of the page and from it seemed to drop a woman with blue skin, her arms either dangling or pointing down at the bottom of the arch. Her arms were inhumanly long and surmounted with claws, and instead of hair she had long horns. Silver leaf accented various monster features and eyes, giving an unsettling impression of the illustrations looking out at Seifer, making him shiver.

 

“ _Alright, that's enough of that,”_ he told himself as he shut off the lights and climbed into bed. _“Think about the future... About tomorrow. Quistis...”_

 

Seifer closed his eyes and imagined running his hands through her heavy, silky hair, touching her soft, smooth cheeks and kissing her inviting lips. As he fell asleep, he dreamed of more heated things, the way she arched and cried for him, how she trembled when she tried to ask for more, how pretty she looked in moonlight and nothing but a sheet. But then his dreams became even stranger as Quistis turned into a hunting cat and prowled through his mind, then sprouted blue wings and flew off to the moon. Meanwhile Seifer chased after her through a rain of diamond chips flaying his skin off his bones, bonfire eyes burning into his back. When he tripped, the ground suddenly yawned before him and turned into a mouth ringed with steel teeth that looked like gunblades.  
  


“ _CONGRATULATIONS,”_ said a terrible voice that shook him to his bones even as he fell, too terrified even to scream. _“WELCOME TO THE FAMILY.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: A reminder that Growing Seed is going to update once a week, mostly because the chapters will be huge like this one.

 

The biggest departure from canon is that Edea still has her sorceress abilities, mostly because “she gave away her powers without realizing it” never made any sense to me in the game. I just don't know when that would have happened since she was using sorcery in combat in Esthar. Rinoa was presumably already possessed at that time, so Ultimecia wouldn't need powers. And does that mean powers can be stolen? Is divine favor at play somehow? I don't know. It just never made sense to me aside from Squall rising to a new role while Seifer fell further into depravity. In any case, Edea's still a sorceress in the Seed Universe and will remain so until the end of her natural life.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why don't you stop and look me over?  
> Am I the same girl you used to know?  
> Why don't you stop and think it over?  
> Am I the same girl who knew your soul?
> 
> I'm the one you hurt, and I'm the one you need  
> I'm the one who cried, the one you used to meet  
> But you're pretending like you don't care  
> But the fire is still there  
> Now we are no longer too young to love each other this way  
> Am I the same girl? Yes I am, yes I am.  
> Am I the same girl? Yes I am, yes I am.
> 
> -"Am I The Same Girl", the original vocal version of Soulful Strut

The bibliophile in Quistis's heart was absolutely in love with Dollet's Grand Library. The neo-Centran architecture was timelessly beautiful with soaring arches that modern buildings only fabricated, not understood. Walls of wonderful books stretched multiple stories, accessible only with ladders or more recently, a roboticized system that had vastly cut down on librarian and book-enthusiast accidents. The main reading room was a glory of light illuminating just the right amount of golden dust motes in the air, but Quistis was more often in the rare book room, which was considerably less dramatic but even more atmospheric. Like a wine cellar, the rare book room was underground, somewhat cramped, and treasures that hadn't been touched or opened in years lined the multiple narrow halls like jewels. In here, the reading stations were set up like desks that put the reader's face to the wall, but the SeeD in Quistis absolutely rebelled at being so unguarded, so Quistis had made herself a fixture in the rare book room by sitting in the corner facing the door, whatever books she wanted to read stacked up behind her. Unfortunately most people would take her outward-facing posture as an invitation to talk to her, which was annoying at best and absolutely infuriating today...

 

“Hey. I see you in here all the time. Are you a grad student or something?”

 

Quistis did not bother looking up from her book. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see it was a tall, symmetrical-enough man in his early twenties with the artfully tousled hair and thick-rimmed glasses of someone who considered himself an intellectual. He looked well-fed but deliberately ill-groomed, and Quistis took in the fine make and sloppy arrangement of his clothing: it seemed to scream 'rich boy who doesn't care about his appearance' or 'middle-class boy who wants to look rich'. Either way, probably boring and entitled. Quistis continued to ignore him as she read her current book, which was a deviation from her blue magic research and required more attention.

 

“You can't even say hi?”

 

“ _Go away,”_ Quistis thought irritably. She was years beyond being bullied into social interactions with others and when she was forced to interact, SeeD protocol provided the scaffold for how she behaved. But civilians were unpredictable, annoying, and in this case, could not tell when their attentions were unwanted. So the best thing to do was ignore them. 

 

“Must be a good book.”

 

It was. It was a whole book about the Zodiac Braves, a group of families in Esthar that had a long history of producing and associating with sorceresses. It was also the name of a semi-religious order that most of them had belonged to and the book that Quistis was reading now was apparently a family bible that had used to belong to the Elbaite family, an offshoot of the Tourmaline Clan of the Braves. Currently Quistis was reading the introduction part at the beginning, which was no mean feat since the writing was dense, cramped, and in old Estharian, which Quistis would never have been able to get through without a bar-style translator from Laguna. He'd heard of her frustrations via Squall or Rinoa and then sent her one of Esthar U's proprietary line-by-line translators, which would not only provide on-the-spot translations but would even translate in context if an entire document was scanned and uploaded. Because it was Esthar U, it had a special focus on dead languages too, which was immensely useful.

 

“ _When I get settled in Shumi Village, I'll paint Laguna something nice...”_ Quistis thought as she continued to scan the book with the translation bar, writing the results in shorthand at the same time. She had packed very lightly for her sabbatical, knowing she might need to move at a moment's notice, and her only real luxury items were her art materials. There was something really creative and freeing about using physical media, even though it was definitely messier and took longer to clean up. Her sketchbook was her own, but her art materials were from dear friends and everyone had paid for a different sort of media that packed into its own hard-sided case. _“Oh... I'll have to buy a canvas then...”_

 

“What's it about?”

 

“ _Why is he still here?”_ Quistis thought irritably. Still without looking up, she said, “Please leave me alone.”

 

“A beautiful girl like you?” He seemed delighted at the opening even as Quistis rolled her eyes with the cliché. “It would be a crime.”

 

Quistis thought about what Rinoa would say and then mentally shook her head; Rinoa was very nice when it came to turning people down and she didn't want to be nice to this persistent wannabe-charmer. Time to channel Selphie then. Selphie could turn on the weird in the most delightful way.

 

“I will commit a crime against your kneecaps if you do not leave me alone,” said Quistis, though she couldn't manage the expression that Irvine laughingly called 'her bullfrog face', which was opening her eyes very wide and smiling without teeth.

 

“Aw, you don't mean that.”

 

“ _The trials of having a pretty face... I'm more than capable, you know.”_ Irritably Quistis glanced at the time. She had an hour and forty minutes until her date, but the rare book room was becoming oppressive. On the other hand, she didn't have permission to remove _this_ book from the reading room so her options were limited.  


 

Salvation arrived in the form of the bald, tottering librarian who came into the rare book room every two hours to make sure no one was eating, drinking, or screwing in the stacks. Quistis waved at the old man, who smiled and waved back.

 

“Delucca, is there a copy of this I could check out?” Quistis asked him, holding up the Elbaite Bible. It was not very large, more like a workaday bible than an official family register, and it was bound in aged leather had once been white with a very particular red cross sewn onto the spine. Only one man Quistis had ever seen in her life wore such a cross, which was why she'd pulled the book from the shelf in the first place.

 

“Yes,” said Delucca, nodding. He was basically a walking catalog of the entire Grand Library, which was an impressive feat considering the size of the collection and his advanced age. Quistis privately thought he was the oldest man she had ever seen, easily over eighty. “But you know, if you like that one, I'll let you have it.”

 

Quistis stared at him. “Have it? What do you mean?”

 

“It is my personal property,” said Delucca, making Quistis flip to the front of the book and then gape at the bookplate. It _did_ indeed read Giorgio Delucca. “But I never opened it and haven't even thought of it in years. Take the book.”

 

“Delucca, I can't—”

 

He waved his hand at her. “It's not officially on the records and I'm never going to do anything with it... Just take it.”

 

Quistis laughed and closed the book, shaking her head at her good luck. “Well, alright. How much do I owe you?”

 

“Well, there's a Wyrm in the Artifact Hall,” said Delucca, which made the young man look extremely confused. “With eggs. If you wouldn't mind...?”

 

Quistis glanced at the clock. One hour and thirty-five minutes now until her date. Quistis looked down at her clothes, calculated the timeline, and nodded.

 

“I can do it right now,” she said, making Delucca smile.

 

“Wait, what are you doing?” The young man asked, blinking as Quistis stood up and began rearranging her bag. When she pulled on her marlboro-skin gauntlets and checked her jian, he boggled. Quistis had left her whips at home for the sake of her disguise: such a distinctive and technical weapon would have betrayed her identity immediately and Quistis was really enjoying being incognito. And while there weren't a lot of blondes using a jian, it wasn't so unusual that people thought something was up.

 

“Monster extermination,” she said, and then smiled brightly as his eyes got huge and round. Picking up her jian and drawing it purely for the bright ring and flash of flexible steel, Quistis said sweetly, “Excuse me. I have to work now.”

 

_That_ the young man understood, and he left so quick that he nearly knocked Delucca over. Delucca cackled and looked at her. 

 

“There really is a Wyrm,” he told her apologetically. “Several, actually.”

 

“I've told you I don't mind,” said Quistis, pulling off her top and skirt. Ever since finding out the Grand Library had a monster problem that there was never enough room in the budget to address, Quistis had quickly become the favorite of the library staff by clearing the floors in exchange for access to rare materials. As a result, she was also always ready to fight and had taken to wearing a sports bra and shorts all the time underneath her summer clothing. And instead of her two-piece battle dress, Quistis put on a fitted scarlet tunic that featured the same padded ringmail that lined the inside of her gauntlets. It was heavier than her coral battle dress, but also warmer and provided more protection. As the heavy fabric slid over her like a second skin, Quistis asked, “Which Artifact Hall did you say?”

 

“The entire Artifact Hall,” said Delucca with a sigh.

 

“I thought I cleared that two months ago.”

 

“So did Parlo and Venda. Fortunately, the doctor says Venda will regrow that part of his behind, so...”

 

Quistis snorted before she could stop herself and just nodded. “I'll see to it.”

 

Quistis entrusted her belongings to Delucca and went into the older, wilder sections of the Grand Library to find two armed Dollet soldiers standing by a pair of heavily reinforced iron doors. They nodded at her and unlocked the door, opening it just enough for Quistis to squeeze in. Quistis took a deep breath first through her nose and then through her mouth, and as the iron door closed and left her in almost total darkness, Quistis opened eyes that reflected light like a cat's. Ever since transforming into a leopard-like creature in Lunatic Pandora, Quistis had been...different.

 

“ _I really need to learn more about blue magic,”_ thought Quistis as she nevertheless padded silently down the hall. _“It's getting too easy to become other than human. One of these days I might not come back...”_

 

Hissing down the hall made Quistis cock her head and look around with just her eyes. Wyrms were not hard to dispatch, being more like overgrown earthworms than anything else, but they were fast and had poisonous teeth. Fortunately their teeth were also very short, which was why Quistis had taken to wearing a ringmail tunic rather than get poisoned with every scratch. Quistis followed the sound of the hissing and found four large Wyrms near the end of the hall, sticking their eggs to the stone ceiling. Each Wyrm was as long as a truck and covered in thick slime that allowed them to go over all surfaces with impunity, as well as protect their unnerving-looking eggs, which looked to be near hatching—they were all pulsing. Quistis took another deep breath, this time feeling her throat and lungs reconfigure to handle a very different sort of breathing...

 

Quistis opened her mouth and blew a roaring, volcano-like flare of flame right into the clutch of Wyrm eggs. They exploded like squeezed pimples and with thin, hideous shrieks; apparently they were only a day or two away from hatching.

 

The adults fell off the ceiling and landed on the floor with slimy splats that sent mucus flying down the hall. One of the Wyrms reared and spat volleyball-sized slime bullets at her, but Quistis dodged easily and leapt back as the nearest adults launched itself at her, blunt teeth already dripping poison. Wyrms had no visible weak spots but their spinal cords were protected by nothing thicker than fibrous sheaths, and one hard slash from her jian was enough to instantly kill a Wyrm if the slash was in the right place. With eyes that still glowed in the dark, Quistis found the subtly different ripple of pale, slimy flesh over the top of the charging Wyrm's body, leapt high, and hit hard. A shudder went down the Wyrm's body and instantly it stopped moving, though the slime coating its body made it glide all the way down the hall until it hit the iron doors with a loud thud. Quistis heard yelling from the soldiers on the other side of the door.

 

“I'm fine!” She shouted back and the yelling stopped.

 

Less than fifteen minutes later, Quistis was done with the Wyrms and petrified their corpses with Bad Breath to make removal easier. She checked the time as the guards let her out of the iron doors; one hour until her date. Enough time to go home, get a quick shower, and change. Heedless of the startled looks she got as she came back into the sunny main library, Quistis accepted her things and Delucca's grateful air-kiss before running back to her apartment. Her blood had been mercury-cold and -quick during battle, but now she was actually excited.

 

“ _I can see Seifer today.”_

 

She still couldn't believe that the day before had happened. She'd been walking down the street, mentally listing what she needed to pack up for the next leg of her sabbatical, when she'd caught a whiff of a familiar scent. Leather and amber. There were plenty of reasons why she might smell those particular smells together, but in her mind, those two scents were tied to the last time Seifer had ever kissed her and the memory of that hunger and desperation made Quistis both aroused and sad. She'd lost many hours wondering what could have happened if they hadn't been walked in on and then just as many hours kicking herself for being stupid. Seifer was gone, or so she'd told herself until she'd smelled those scents together on a sunny street and turned to see a man in a cafe, his eyes the color of a vibrant sea and a thin ring of real golden color around each pupil. She had seen only one person with eyes like that in her entire lifetime, and combined with the scent...

 

“ _Is it him?”_ Quistis had stopped in the street, staring, and the man hadn't noticed. He was watching people go by with a little smile on his face, and once he laughed and took a drink of his ale, looking furtive but not guilty. It was a look Quistis remembered being on Seifer's face when he was planning on doing something he shouldn't, which in the old days was either playing a prank or beating up Squall. 

 

On sheer impulse she'd gone over to talk to the man, but the longer they'd sat together, the more she became convinced that the man with the scents of leather and amber and the eyes of a living sea _was_ Seifer Almasy. It wasn't just the scent, which was nearly the same as she remembered (no more gunpowder or synthetic oil) and it wasn't just his eyes, which were honestly distinctive enough to identify him alone. Quistis knew it was Seifer from the sound of his voice, the way he smirked, the way he lit up when he saw something interesting. And the stories he told—oh yes, she remembered Wizard Battle and Raijin setting off the sprinklers all over the Garden, and once he started talking about it, she even remembered dragging Seifer out of the tree during Basic Conditioning. _It was him._ Six months of loneliness and dreams and wondering what might have been and now he was here in front of her.

 

“ _Does he know it's me?”_ Quistis wondered as she showered and changed, moving faster than she ever did outside of battle. _“I think he knows... He wasn't surprised about the side effects of blue magic. And the way he smirked when I handed over my sketchbook. And I'm pretty sure he wouldn't ask about an ex-boyfriend so much if he wasn't fishing for information about himself... And if he really didn't recognize me, he surely would have asked my_ name. _”_

 

It was the pain on his face that really cemented his identity in Quistis's mind. Even as lightly as she talked about his offenses, she could still see how upset he was at the idea of hurting her. One of the hallmarks of their relationship had been how careful he'd been the whole time, determined to make sure that she actually liked him and wanted to be around him. Seifer Almasy was secretly scared of being rejected and the way it came out in romance was unexpectedly sweet... And really passionate. Wow.

 

“ _Don't get ahead of yourself,"_ said her sensible self, who sounded an awful lot like Xu right now. _"Don't give away everything at once. It's been six months. Things are different. And you're going to travel soon. Take things slowly and feel things out...”_

 

Even though it was a warm summer day, Quistis did not wear anything that showed off her arms or legs. Ever. The former were scarred to hell from whip training and combat and her legs were so pale that they practically glowed in the dark, so she put on a long dress made of layers of upcycled fabric and then a crocheted jacket that covered her arms without being too warm. Quistis repacked her bag to have only her sketchbook, a notebook, her wallet, and the Elbaite Bible. For the last, she took a moment to flip through the pages until she found the section she'd been trying to concentrate on before. It was the introduction to the Diamond Clan, the most prominent family of which was the al-Masi line. Fire affinity and elemental fire lore ran in their bloodline. Also legendary stubbornness.

 

“ _I wonder how he'd react...”_ Quistis thought, pulling a piece of paper from her sketchbook to bookmark the old pages—no sticky notes for original source materials. She carefully slipped the book into her bag and left the apartment with her heart banging in her chest.

 

Seifer was not at the cafe when she arrived, but she remembered that he always arrived to class ten minutes late and didn't hold it against him. So Quistis took a seat at one of the open-air tables and took out the Elbaite Bible to read and make notes. Seifer would not be able to read ancient Estharian without a translator like hers, so she wrote out what she could in Garden shorthand, which every SeeD student learned and which she hoped Seifer remembered. A light breeze brought the scent of leather and amber to her nose and made Quistis lift her head, and when she looked around, she saw a man walking toward her, carrying a book under his arm. But there was something strange. The wind was still blowing right for her to smell the scent she remembered from yesterday, but he  _looked_ completely different.

 

“ _What the hell?”_

 

“Am I late?” He asked her as he walked up. The sound of his voice was correct, and as Quistis stared, his tanned-leather skin turned fair, his facial hair went from black to red, and his eyes even changed from brown to sea-green with a thin ring of gold. Quistis suppressed a shiver. What was going on?

 

“No, you're not late,” she said, hiding her surprise. As Seifer's features continued to shift into himself, she said, “You look nice today.”

 

“Thanks,” he said, sounding pleased. He did actually look nice. Yesterday he'd looked like a rich college kid's idea of a hobo but today he was wearing something that looked more like himself—long black pants, a well-fitting tee in dark grey, and scale mail bracelets on both wrists. The only thing missing was the long white coat; the only things added were the white bandana and the black hat he was still wearing. Quistis zeroed in on the bracelets, which seemed to have scents of their own. Intensely bitter, dusty like feathers... It seemed familiar somehow.

 

“Those are new,” she said, pointing at the bracelets.

 

“Present from my mother,” he said, smirking. Mother... A mother who was on a ship... Edea.

 

“ _So that's how you've stayed under the radar for the past six months,”_ thought Quistis, pleased. _“And now she's enchanted you somehow so you don't look like yourself. Very clever, Matron. Though if I can look through the illusion, others will too... Well, at least Seifer didn't shave. I don't think anyone would recognize him with facial hair.”_

 

“I have something for you,” he said, giving her the book. She blinked at it, recognizing it instantly, and then looked at Seifer strangely.

 

“Thank you...” she said slowly, nevertheless taking the book. But as soon as she touched the cover, something like electricity went up her arm as she instinctively knew that _this_ leather did not come from any domestic animal. Quistis took the book and touched it with fingers that started to tremble. Monster leather. She felt it in her bones, this was tanned monster hide. And as she opened the pages and stared down at the unannotated pages, she realized that the pages were monster vellum. Every page came from a different beast. Most shockingly, there were words on every page, buried in the illustrations, words that were clear and made sense. Ones she could _understand._

 

“Where did you get this?” Quistis breathed as she read a line that said, _“The Alraune is a Beast of the Plant Family with qualities that inflame the mating instincts of the breeding creatures on Gaia.”_

 

“It was in my mother's library,” he said, sounding amused. Quistis laughed aloud; well, if anyone would have a _real_ book about magic, of course it would be a sorceress! “It looked like the original and she said she didn't need it, so...”

 

Quistis flipped to the middle of the book and read another line. _“Having successfully returned from the Prime Transfiguration, the blue mage has now progressed to become a blue sage and must study with great fervor to avoid the loss of self in the subsequent transformations.”_

 

“Holy Hyne, this is _exactly_ what I've been looking for,” Quistis gasped, excitement making her heart race.

 

“Is it that different?” Seifer asked, looking surprised.

 

Quistis nodded. The letters she was seeing now... Was it a matter of seeing the original versus a copy? Or was there another reason she could see the words now?

 

“ _Come to think of it, I can see in the dark now... And it's well-known that certain animals can see different sorts of light. That must be why I couldn't see anything in the other book! It wasn't... Right. It wasn't made for me. But this...”_

 

The temptation to fall into the book was overwhelming, and only Seifer's low chuckle made her look up. “You need some alone time?” He asked teasingly, making Quistis blush and close the precious, precious tome.

 

“Well, maybe we could have a reading date,” she said, making his brows raise. With a tremble of excitement Quistis handed over the book on the Zodiac Braves and also her translations, saying, “I found this today and thought you might be interested.”

 

“Yeah? Why's that?” He took the book and notebook, and this time Quistis saw Seifer freeze as he read the title page. _The Register and Historie of the Zodiac Braves._ She'd told him about the possible family connection herself six months ago, and from the look on his face, Seifer hadn't forgotten. She watched his eyes go to the Garden shorthand and read without stopping, making her smile. Seifer was not nearly as opaque as one needed to be to become a real infiltration agent, but in this case that was perfectly alright. She saw his hand go to his mouth and drag down over his lips, making her wonder exactly what she'd translated. She'd been so focused on getting all the words down that she hadn't paid attention to the content of her writing.

 

“Is it interesting?” She asked him, lacing her hands together and resting her chin on her fingers.

 

“Huh? Oh... Yeah.” Seifer snapped the book and notebook shut, looking rattled still but also pleased. “Thanks. This is... This is really cool. How'd you know I'd be into this?”

 

So he still wanted to play like they were strangers. Quistis smiled. It was nice to pretend like only the good parts of their history had happened. She knew someday they'd have to confront everything they'd done, especially to each other, but it didn't have to be today. Or soon, even.

 

“Well, judging from the way your face lit up at the other manuscript, I thought you might like other old books,” said Quistis, making Seifer smile. “And the calligraphy is interesting.”

 

“Yeah...” Seifer flipped through the Elbaite Bible. “I wonder who this Giorgio Delucca is.”

 

“He's one of the senior librarians at the Grand Library,” said Quistis, making Seifer look at her in surprise. “I got it from him just this morning.”

 

“He just _gave_ you this?” Seifer asked incredulously.

 

“I had the same reaction, but he was more than happy to let it go,” said Quistis. “As long as I did him a favor.”

 

“What sort of favor?”

 

“Mmm... Well, the Grand Library has a lot of vaults underneath it, some of which have not been accessed in a very long time, and as a result, monsters have moved in.” When Seifer's brows rose, she said, “It's very far below the main library. Still, if I go and clear a few floors, the librarians are happy and in return, extend me a couple of privileges.”

 

“Nice,” said Seifer, now grinning. Now Quistis knew he _had_ to know who she was, because any sort of stranger would immediately doubt that Quistis could kill even one monster, let alone clear floors full of them. “Need any company?”

 

“You want to help me clear monsters?” Quistis asked, her brows raising.

 

“Help? Nah. I want to clear them _with_ you.” His eyes gleamed. “It can be a race.”

 

A race! “Competitive, aren't you?” Quistis asked, her blood nevertheless thrilling. Watching Seifer fight was always a treat. He was intuitive, powerful, graceful... Even when he'd been the enemy, Quistis had loved watching him move.

 

“More like, 'cooperative with an incentive',” said Seifer, which made Quistis laugh. “I think it makes it more interesting.”

 

“And if you win such a race, what would you claim as your prize?” Quistis asked, half-expecting something perverted. She could see him thinking about it too, the way his grin turned into a knowing smirk that made her breath hitch with the memory of everything he could do to her.

 

“I don't know,” he said, his voice becoming just a tad lower and more intimate. “What would you let me have?”

 

“ _Anything you wanted,”_ whispered Quistis's pervert mind, making her blush.

 

Just then the cafe server arrived and asked if they wanted anything, so Quistis ordered a black tea with lemon and Seifer asked for half tea and half lemonade. As soon as the server left, they looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

 

“You like sweet drinks?”

 

“Isn't it hot for tea?”

 

Quistis blinked and then laughed softly, shaking her head. “To each their own, I suppose.”

 

“I guess,” said Seifer, looking amused. “So... Assuming you're having a good time with me...”

 

“I am,” she said, inclining her head at him.

 

“What do you want to do after lunch?”

 

Now it was Quistis's turn to smile, though she hid her expression behind her laced hands. Lust pooled warm and anticipatory in her hips, making her feel light and heavy at the same time. “Hmm... Well... We can walk around town. Or go to the beach. It's very nice out.”

 

“No offense, but I live on a ship so I'd prefer to stay the hell away from water for as long as possible,” said Seifer, which made Quistis burst out laughing. “Walking around town is nice... What are your shoes like?”

 

“My shoes?”

 

“You up for a hike?”

 

Quistis looked at him, intrigued. “Where to?”

 

Seifer pointed up and out of the town, making Quistis turn. On the large cliff overshadowing the majority of Dollet was a radio communications tower, still operational and gleaming from last year.

 

“There's a nice view up there,” said Seifer as Quistis looked at him incredulously. “Saw it last year. If you're up for it, I can show you.”

 

“Alright,” said Quistis, intrigued. “But if we're going out of town, you're going to need a weapon.”

 

Seifer smirked. “Don't worry about me.”

 

“And recovery items.”

 

“Taken care of.”

 

“And... Should things go very wrong, reviving items?”

 

Seifer's smirk became a grin. “Don't worry,” he said. “I won't let the monsters get you.”

 

Quistis laughed, remembering when she'd said the exact same thing to him.

 

Lunch came and went. If Seifer was surprised that hers was mostly meat, he kept it to himself. They split the check (how did Seifer have money?) and then stopped by her apartment to drop off their precious books. Seifer waited down in the lobby since it was a quick run, and when Quistis came down he made no comment about how she'd changed from her long skirt to something knee-length and of tougher fabric. But he did look at her weapon.

 

“...A sword?” He asked her, raising his brows.

 

“A jian _,”_ said Quistis, tapping the slim saber. One of the nice things about her sabbatical was reacquainting herself with some of the other weapons she'd used in previous years. “I started off my training with this, actually.”

 

“It's one of those weird wobbly swords, isn't it?”

 

“It is flexible, yes,” she said, seeing the skeptical look on Seifer's face. She should have known he wouldn't respect the weapon; his style was all about power, not technique. Quistis tried to imagine Seifer using an extremely technical weapon like a whip and realized he'd probably choke himself by accident. Without meaning to she laughed and then had to shake her head when he looked at her strangely.

 

They left town, crossing the long bridge that separated the main township from the radio tower cliff. Since the tower was now operational, the Dollet army had regular patrols to keep the road clear: however, 17 years of neglect were not so easily fixed and there were signs about every 50 feet urging all civilians to turn back to town, as well as remind them that monsters didn't wait until you were dead to eat you. Quistis and Seifer ignored all the signs and walked in companionable silence. There was nothing so important to talk about that it required a loss of concentration in a monster-infested zone.

 

The first Anaconduar came slithering out of the roadside about ten minutes into their walk. It looked full-grown and well-fed, which made Quistis stop for a second to see if it would go away. Seifer took a few steps forward before realizing she wasn't walking.

 

“What's up?”

 

“I'm a live and let live sort of person,” said Quistis, folding her arms. “As long as a monster's not bothering me, I leave it alone.”

 

“Is that a you thing or a blue mage thing?”

 

Quistis smiled. Seifer had no idea he'd just given away that he knew her identity, and she wondered why he didn't just call her by name already.

 

“A me thing,” said Quistis as the Anaconduar turned and looked at them. “Do you want this one?”

 

“Only if you don't,” he said, his eyes nevertheless gleaming.

 

“By all means,” said Quistis as the Anaconduar hissed and started to slither towards them. Seifer gave her a mocking bow and turned to face the creature.

 

A sword made of pure fire and shaped like Hyperion boiled out of Seifer's right hand.

 

“ _Oh my,”_ thought Quistis, stunned as Seifer leapt forward and neatly beheaded the Anaconduar in a spray of dark blood and burning flesh. _“No wonder he was unarmed.”_

 

“And here I thought you were a martial artist,” said Quistis when Seifer landed, the flames around his hand puffing away .

 

“Sorry, no,” he said, smirking at her. “Just the buffest red mage you've ever seen.”

 

“Red mage, hmm...” Quistis chuckled. “So you can cast white magic too?”

 

“Sort of. Just on myself.” As they started walking, he asked, “You know about elemental lore?”

 

“Vaguely,” said Quistis, touching her face. “I used to know some people who had wind and lightning lore... They could cast it endlessly and even heal themselves with it. Are you the same?”

 

“Yeah, just with fire.” Seifer's gaze dropped to the ground. “It's a blood family thing. I didn't find out about it until recently.”

 

Quistis just nodded. It wasn't a surprise to her at all. Not knowing one's past and parentage created many missed opportunities.

 

“ _I wonder which of my parents was the blue mage... Or maybe they both were. I wonder if they ever read blue magic books too. Did they accept their powers? Were they shunned? Would it have been easier to grow up in a family that_ understood?”

 

It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached the summit and hot enough that Quistis wanted to take off her jacket. Seifer caught her fanning the fabric at her back.

 

“Just take it off,” he said. “I keep thinking bees are flying up your back.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because my arms are all scarred and I don't like looking at them.”

 

“Oh?” Seifer looked at her strangely. When she glanced at him, he lifted his arm and made a fist, his muscles swelling against the fine, ropy cuts all over his forearm and bicep. He apparently got a lot of sun on the White SeeD Ship, because the tracework of scars stood like white lace against his surprisingly tan skin. “Does this bother you?”

 

“No, those are yours,” she said, flushing. “But mine... Well... It's different for women.”

 

“ _Though he has seen me naked before, so I suppose I shouldn't be embarrassed... Still...”_

 

“I don't think it's different at all,” said Seifer, making her glance at him in annoyance. “Just proves you're stronger than whatever tried to kill you. And that's dead sexy.”

 

The lecture about beauty double standards died on her lips and Quistis laughed instead, blushing when Seifer smirked at her. Still a little hesitantly, Quistis took off her crocheted jacket and tied it around her waist, sighing happily as a breeze brushed by her back. She resisted actually looking at her arms and mercifully Seifer said nothing when she laced her hands behind her back and kept walking.

 

The next monsters that popped out were a pair of Geezards and Quistis killed them a slash and a thrust that made the long tassel on the end of her jian snap out like a flag. The entire weapon was a present from Xu, who was very happy Quistis was taking time for herself and had given Quistis a blade that was just as efficient as it was lovely. And the tassel was something Xu had made herself, a scarlet masterwork of intricate knots around an enameled ball that Xu said was for good luck. When Quistis flicked monster blood off the blade and sheathed her sword, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Seifer's eyes gleaming in appreciation.

 

“You know, you actually make that wobbly sword look good,” he said.

 

“Thank you. I guess red mages aren't useless after all,” she retorted. Seifer's eyes gleamed again and a small smile went up his lips.

 

They walked and took turns dispatching monsters. It was about mid-afternoon when they reached the summit, and once there they took a moment to sit on the edge of the cliff and rest. Quistis had brought water and snacks in her belt pouch and to her surprise, the cargo pockets on Seifer's pants were also full of things to eat.

 

“When did you get snacks?”

 

“When you were changing. Jerky?”

 

“Thanks. Water?”

 

“Don't mind if I do.” As Seifer took the collapsible water bottle, he gestured out at the vista and said, “Well?”

 

Quistis looked out. When Lapin Beach wasn't full of gunboats and dead soldiers, it was a gleaming crescent of white-gold sand that curved around a peerlessly blue bay. The colorful roofs of the town looked like jewels or flower petals, especially against the dark cliffs that rose on either side. The sky was blue and streaked with white clouds that scudded across the sky at a decent rate, propelled by breezes that pulled at Quistis's hair.

 

“Very nice,” she said, smiling.

 

“Worth the walk?”

 

“With the company? Yes.”

 

Seifer smiled. Ah, she loved that smile, the sweet gentle one that had nothing but good humor. Her heart started to pound and unconsciously Quistis licked her lips.

 

“So which boat is yours?” She asked, looking down over the harbor. Seifer moved closer to her and she anticipated an arm going around her shoulder as he pointed out at sea. Instead she felt soft lips brush behind her ear and Quistis nearly swooned from the heat that burst out from that small point of contact. It felt like every inch of her skin suddenly came alive for the first time in months, making her not only aware of her body but how close Seifer was. He was so warm and close. Aside from that light kiss, he was not touching her in the least, and there was something incredibly erotic about his restraint. Quistis's hands curled into fists in her lap as she shivered, silently wanting more but scared to ask. It had been six whole months and she'd literally been dreaming of a moment like this, but now...

 

“No good?”

 

“N-n-no,” she stammered, feeling her face heat up. This was _embarrassing._ She was not a virgin anymore, why was she still so scared? “It's f-f-fine.”

 

The feel of his low chuckle ghosting over her neck sent a new rush of sensation down her skin. Quistis wondered if he'd gained any more 'experience' in their time apart and had to swallow against a rush of jealousy and desire.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Seifer murmured. As Quistis shivered, he asked, “Please?”

 

“ _Why is he asking?”_ Quistis was half-furious. _“Surely he knows the answer is yes!”_

 

Jerkily she managed to nod and she tensed when she heard him laugh again. Only the knowledge that he was amused rather than openly mocking her stopped Quistis from jumping to her feet and running away... That, and the subtle crunch of gravel as Seifer slid closer to her still, just barely touching her side. She was still staring down at her lap, so she saw him reach across her and then up to cup her cheek in one hand. _So warm._ Quistis drew her breath in a stutter as Seifer turned her face toward him and suddenly afraid, she closed her eyes just as his lips met hers.

 

_Oh yes._

 

There was a silent explosion of sensation, desire, and the complex scents that painted a picture of Seifer Almasy, fueled by the shock of being touched intimately for the first time in months and all the frustrated memories and dreams she'd had in the meantime. Quistis was barely aware of relaxing until she realized she was turning more than just her face toward him. Her hands reached out, tugging on his shirt as Seifer nudged her lips apart and then started kissing her more deeply, the softness of his lips and tongue contrasting with the wiry brush of his new facial hair. It wasn't unpleasant at all, and underneath the new sensation Quistis could feel the original tenderness and consideration that had originally stolen her heart away. Even though she could tell he wanted more from the shakiness of his breath and the subtly impatient touch of his hand against her face, he was still waiting for her to give him the okay. Under her palms, she could feel Seifer's heart beating harder and Quistis wondered what sort of sign she could give that she wanted him without question that didn't involve taking off his clothes right now...

 

“ _Though I definitely could...”_ Quistis thought, a shiver of heavy temptation seeming to loosen her entire body, and Seifer's breath hitched as she slid her hands down his chest and start to pull up on his shirt a little bit. As soon as her fingertips touched the sensitive margin of skin above his hipbones, Seifer gasped audibly and then sighed in a way that seemed to be made of pure longing. 

 

“Whoohoo!” Someone whooped, way too close.

 

“Yeah, girl! Get that!”

 

Quistis froze. Seifer's growl of irritation made her throat buzz and when Quistis opened her eyes to look around, she saw Seifer flipping off two soldiers who were patrolling around the outside of the communication tower. Mortification exploded up Quistis's entire body and she scrambled to her feet, panic filling her veins. Seifer stared at her in dismay.

 

“Are you serious?” He demanded.

 

“Bye,” was all she could say. She _meant_ to say 'see you back in town', but between the sweet pleasure of the kiss and being seen wanting more _,_ her entire body was going haywire and higher functions like speaking were completely out the window. So Quistis ran. Behind her, Seifer disgustedly got to his feet, pointed at the two soldiers, and made a throat-slitting gesture with one hand. They laughed at him as he started to run after Quistis.

 

“Come back!” He yelled as she rounded the bend in the path. “Where are you going?”

 

It was too hard to articulate. But Quistis slowed down enough to let Seifer catch up to her, though he didn't grab her arm like she expected. Instead he put on a burst of speed to get in front of her and made her stop short.

 

“Was it really that embarrassing?” He asked, looking both confused and amused.

 

Quistis nodded, face aflame, her eyes sliding away from his.

 

“Why?”

 

“...it just...is..” Quistis sighed heavily, hugging herself. “I'm sorry. I bet you think I'm stupid. I'm just... New to this. Still. The last time anyone kissed me was six months ago.”

 

“You're fine.” Seifer laughed softly. “Honestly, if you hadn't run away, I think I would have murdered them... Assholes.”

 

Quistis laughed, but it was a short and embarrassed thing that died almost immediately.

 

“...Wanna go back to town?” Seifer asked, holding out his hand. Quistis nodded, grateful for a destination, and put her fingers in his palm. And they walked back like that, not saying anything. In a way it was good because Quistis felt too embarrassed to talk still, but it was just as upsetting to be misunderstood.

 

“ _I'm not a total baby about romance. You_ know _I'm not. It's just been such a long time. And you're back and I love that. I want to enjoy it. I want it to be perfect for as long as it lasts because who knows when we can do this again? If we can ever do this again?_

 

“ _Seifer, I really like being able to meet you for lunch. I like to talk to you about everything. I like walking with you and fighting with you instead of against you. I like us being together again._

 

“ _That's why I couldn't stand it when those_ jerks _interrupted us. I don't want reality to come back in yet...”_

 

Quistis sighed heavily and leaned against Seifer's arm. She felt his hand tighten in hers. And then he started walking off to the side.

 

“Where are you going?” She asked him, confused.

 

“Right underneath that tree over there,” he said, nodding at a scrubby thing with low-lying branches.

 

“Why? What's over there?”

 

“A lack of witnesses.”

 

She puzzled through that for a second but as soon as she realized what he was talking about, turned brilliantly red. Seifer glanced at her and then stopped, looking stunned.

 

“I mean... If you still want to,” he said, swallowing.

 

“ _I DO still want to. I want to_ so much.” Quistis took a deep, steadying breath. She looked into Seifer's eyes, which were darkening in concern and consternation. Her heart swelled with affection even as it trembled with nervousness. 

 

Words were still hard. So Quistis squeezed Seifer's hand and pulled him to the tree, which made him laugh and then follow after her. 

 

In the shade and without any witnesses, it was easy for Quistis to curl her hands into Seifer's soft shirt and pull him down toward her, touching her lips to his like she had yesterday. Except this time Seifer's arms went around her waist and he pulled her close, making her weak in the knees with the rush of warmth that seemed to flood out of his skin. The intoxicating scent of body-warmed leather and amber filled her senses, edged with the smell of sea salt and something spicy that inflamed her blood. This time there was very little hesitation; Quistis knew all over again how wonderful kissing could be and wanted more of it, and she felt Seifer chuckle when she clumsily sought out his taste. His hands went up her back and to her hair. There was a light tugging on the Shear Feathers she used to keep her hair out of her face before her head suddenly felt lighter, and Seifer sighed as he twined his fingers in her hair. Quistis's forehead bumped against the brim of his hat, making a flash of annoyance mar the pleasure. Impatiently she reached up and pulled it off, catching his bandana too. Seifer stiffened.

 

“Relax,” she said when he pulled back, eyes troubled. She reached up and touched his face, her eyes on his scar. “I just want to see your face.”

 

He looked so confused. Quistis realized he didn't realize that she knew who he was.

 

“ _Why doesn't he tell me his name? He has to know by now that I wouldn't reject him. And I know he wants me... Why doesn't he call my name? Why is he holding back?”_

 

“...Alright, I can't take this anymore,” said Seifer, shaking his head. Quistis braced for some sort of heart-wrenching confession, but to her surprise Seifer looked deeply into her eyes and said, “You know who I am, right?”

 

“As much as you know who I am,” she returned, stunned at his seriousness.

 

“Oh, cut the crap, Quistis!” Seifer snapped, making Quistis burst out laughing with relief. “You know it's _me,_ right?”

 

“Yes.” She touched his scar, which made him tense up even as she smiled and said, “I've missed you, Seifer.”

 

“Good,” he said, sounding the most like his old confident, impatient self that she could remember. “I've missed you too.”

 

And then he kissed her in such a way as to make every other kiss they'd had before pale in comparison. It wasn't just the action of his lips and tongue that bowled her over; it wasn't just how he held her tight, shifting to press as much of himself to her as he could. It wasn't only the low groan of desire that rumbled through his chest and buzzed over her skin, or the electrifying press of his hardening cock against her inner thigh. It was everything all together, overlaid with the spicy, chocolatey scent of lust weaving together with his own scent bouquet, and when Seifer pulled back Quistis nearly collapsed, dazed by the intense sensory assault. Seifer took one look at her and started laughing.

 

“That good?” He teased. In the relative darkness in the shade of the tree, the gold ring around his pupils put off faint light and seemed to illuminate the sea-green color of his eyes.

 

“Uh-huh...” Quistis managed to reply, dazed.

 

“You really haven't kissed anyone else in the past six months?”

 

“No,” she said, gathering herself. “Have you?”

 

“I'm on a damn Ship full of kids, established couples, and people who remember me when I was in diapers,” Seifer retorted, making Quistis giggle. “So no, not really. Actually this is the first time I've been off the Ship in a populated area.”

 

“Oh.” Quistis smiled, a blush going up her cheeks. “Well... I'm really glad we met, then.”

 

“Me too.” He brushed her bangs out of her face. “These are cute.”

 

“Thank you,” she said and touched his mustache. “But this is like kissing a toothbrush.”

 

“Hah! I guess that's true.” Seifer rubbed his facial hair. “I'll shave it. Matron's doohickeys hide my face anyway, so I don't need it anymore.”

 

Quistis looked at the scale mail bracelet around his wrist, inhaling a deep bitterness that nearby became sweet again, edged with something like dusty feathers and rich earth.

 

“ _Is that Matron's smell or the smell of sorcery?”_

 

Quistis hugged Seifer, pressing her face against his neck. He hugged her back, his passionate hold slackening to become a tight hug instead. She felt him burying his face in her hair.

 

“You're only in town for one more day, aren't you?” Quistis asked softly.

 

“Not even a whole day,” said Seifer in a low voice. “The Ship's almost done with repairs and we'll be taking off as soon as they're done. So we're leaving tomorrow afternoon around four.”

 

“ _Do you have to?”_ Quistis almost asked, but gave herself a hard shake. She was leaving Dollet at the end of the week to go to Shumi Village in Trabia. Even if Seifer said he would stay for her, even if he followed her there, what was he going to do with himself while she was studying blue magic? Because as happy as she was to have Seifer back, Quistis was not about to give up the most important course of study of her entire life. In the most ruthless pragmatic sense, blue magic was going to be a part of her life forever, while Seifer... And really, romance in general... It was all transitory. 

 

“ _So just enjoy the moment, Quistis.”_

 

“Seifer... Come back to my apartment.” Quistis swallowed and hugged him hard, taking comfort in his nearness and his scent. “I want you to spend the night.”

 

Seifer leaned back, looking stunned. His scent seemed to roil, the proportions of each note shifting with his emotions even as the spicy, cocoa-edged smell of lust got stronger.

 

“Really?” He asked, his eyes glowing like a phosphorescent sea.

 

“Really.” She smiled shyly, excitement fluttering underneath every inch of her skin. “I want to maximize our time together.”

 

“ _Screw taking things slow,”_ flashed through Quistis's mind. _“A six-month break is long enough!”_

 

“Okay...” he said. His smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “I'll do that. But, uh...”

 

“But?”

 

Seifer sighed. “I should probably tell Matron,” he said reluctantly, making Quistis nod in understanding. “Boy, she was _pissed_ yesterday when I was missing for a few hours. If I go missing for a whole night...”

 

Quistis nodded but then cocked her head. “Missing? You mean... You ran away from the Ship?”

 

“Technically, I climbed out of my window and swam away from the Ship,” said Seifer, making Quistis stare and then start laughing. He smiled as he added, “It was a pretty cool escape. I can tell you all about it later.”

 

“Please do.” Quistis brightened as an idea occurred to her. “If you have to go back for a while, then that lets me do something else.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She smiled. “I think... I'd like to cook us dinner.” When Seifer's brows raised, Quistis said, “What? I can cook.”

 

“Are you sure?” He asked her. “Cause I remember asking you what you weren't good at six months ago, and 'cooking' was literally the first thing out of your mouth.”

 

“I've been on my own for six months,” she reminded him. “And eating out all the time gets old. Don't worry, I'm not going to poison you.”

 

“Hmm...” Seifer suddenly smirked. “Okay. You can cook dinner. But I'm making dessert.”

 

Now Quistis looked at him in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

 

“You've been on your own for six months? I've had galley duty for at least that long.” Seifer gave her a playful squeeze and said, “So I promise not to poison _you,_ too.”

 

“Deal.” Quistis pecked him on the lips, laughing when he leaned after her for more. “Will you come to my apartment around 1800, then?”

 

“Three hours from now? That's doable.”

 

“Good. Then let's go.”

 

They walked back to town holding hands, almost buzzing in anticipatory silence. As soon as they crossed the bridge, Seifer brushed his lips over hers and murmured he'd be back soon; Quistis kissed him more properly and told him not to be late. And then they parted ways, glancing back every few steps to make sure the other was really there until Quistis walked into a mailbox and Seifer fell off the curb laughing at her. After that they hurried away, focused on the brightness of the near future.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: It's so much fun to see the hit counter climb :) I'm glad people are reading, or at least poking their heads in and skimming. Quistis clearing things in the Library was directly inspired by one particular dungeon in FFXII (my PS2 doesn't work, so I don't remember the name) and the Library of the Great Glacier of the Clayr in the Sabriel Trilogy by Garth Nix.

 

I'm trying to make myself draw more, but I find I'm somewhat better at drawing when I'm beholden to someone else. So what should I draw: a smooching scene, Quistis walking into the mailbox and Seifer falling off the curb, or Quistis's new look in the Grand Library?  
  


/\/\/\/\/\


	3. Chapter 3

“Thanks, Matron,” said Raijin, admiring the disguising necklace in his hands. It looked like a series of flat plates each about the size of his thumbnail and when Raijin looked underneath, all of the plates were scribed with little sigils that he assumed were magic. Edea's face had been the first he'd seen after coming out of the life-threatening illness that had nearly taken him six months ago, and while he'd recognized her as “the Sorceress”, the complete change in her face and demeanor had quickly convinced Raijin that she'd been under the same whammy that had KO'd Seifer. Between that and seeing how tenderly she interacted with the very small children on the Ship made Raijin trust her rather quickly.

“Thanks, Matron,” said Fujin to Edea, who smiled and continued to fasten the disguising choker around Fujin's neck. Because Fujin's raspy, tortured voice was one of her most distinctive features, Edea's enchantment for her also smoothed out the sound of her speaking until it sounded like she suffered from allergies instead of horrific vocal cord scarring. Edea's patience with her voice up until that moment was what had won Fujin over, though she had maintained a certain distrust mostly because the boys had fallen in line so fast. Someone had to be the logical one in their group, and even now Fujin stood by with half a subconscious mind that was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You're welcome,” said Edea. She was very fond of Fujin and Raijin for all that they hadn't grown up with her; the mother in her ached for their traumas and for their own scars from Ultimecia's ordeal. She could tell they had always been close, but now they communicated on levels that were only the result of shared trauma; a glance, a subtle turn of the shoulder, a subtle shift in the brow, and the other would immediately react. Edea thought some of that had to due with protectiveness toward each other; Fujin bristled at any slight towards Raijin's intelligence, while the only time Raijin showed temper was if someone was rushing (or in his view, 'disrespecting') Fujin through her speaking. Seifer showed the same tendencies towards both of them and in return they treated him with concern... A lot of concern.

Immediately after Seifer had left the Ship, they'd immediately sought her out and asked her for a way to be able to follow Seifer too, anxious over what might happen if they weren't directly watching him. They weren't the confused followers of six months ago; now they would bash Seifer on the head and drag him away whether he liked it or not. That was honestly a weight off Edea's heart. Edea remembered that Seifer had always been truer to himself when they'd been around him, and while she was confident that Seifer was no longer under Ultimecia's control, she could not confidently say that he was no longer under her influence. Ultimecia had a way of getting into people's heads and twisting even their most honest desires into something she could use, to the point later where the person was not sure where they ended and Ultimecia began. Edea had been able to preserve her own mind with sorcery, but an unprotected human stood no chance.

And one primed to serve sorceresses through blood and breeding had even less. Edea had not known of True Knights and the Zodiac Braves before her possession, but Ultimecia's acquisitive glee and knowledge on the particular subject had been so strong that now Edea knew more than she ever wanted. To Ultimecia, getting Seifer to serve her was like getting one's hands on a finely crafted tool, and after she had revived him in Galbadia Garden, it was like she had a custom-made one. She had essentially stripped him of any physical barriers that prevented him from working as her second pair of hands, an act that made Edea shudder with its ruthlessness and thoroughness.

Fortunately, more powers than sorcery existed in the world and Seifer had told Edea about Ellone's intervention in his life. Apparently Ellone had 'connected' Seifer to a time when he didn't know Ultimecia, was truest to himself alone, and surrounded by the love and happiness that he'd always thought was missing. It made Edea's heart ache, knowing that the hole Ultimecia had sunk her claws into had been so deep to start with.

_“Would he have been as suspectible if I'd taken him with me on the Ship? I thought he would be safer with Cid and that years of being trained mundanely would reduce his desirability to Ultimecia...”_

Ooh, the memory of Ultimecia's thoroughly unwholesome interest in Seifer still gave Edea the chills. In the years it took for Edea to raise the funds for the construction of the White SeeD Ship, Ultimecia would slyly insert her influence whenever Edea was around Seifer, saying little things with just enough power to warp his growing mind and groom him to her service. My special boy, you are destined for great things. My dear little knight. To Edea, calling Cid her knight was more a term of endearment than anything else, but Ultimecia went for the old ways, the frightening ways, and turned them into something irresistibly shiny for a boy who already had a soft spot for pageantry and romanticism.

_“I was afraid that if Seifer stayed with me, he'd become a slave without ever having the chance to become more... Not that it mattered in the end...”_

And now things were strange. Too strange for Edea to want to think about. Ultimecia had taken advantage of Edea and Seifer's familial love to bind him to her service and then hooked herself in, confusing Seifer's affection and judgment with pure power. Now Ultimecia was dead, but the familial love was changed from her influence. By nature, Sorceresses and Knights were intimately connected and it was not always sexual, but enough of Ultimecia's interest in that had bled over to make Edea sometimes look at Seifer and think what a fine, strong young man he'd grown into... So much more handsome than Cid...

It disgusted Edea. It terrified her, not just out of a personal fear but more importantly, traumatizing Seifer to the point of catatonia. He had been through enough. So almost immediately after Time Compression, Edea made the conscious decision to sever the part of her that felt any sexual desire at all and lock it into a box, never to be opened again. She hoped Cid hadn't noticed yet. It wasn't fair to him and she did still love her husband. But it was just too dangerous to able to desire anymore.

“Matron!”

The sound of Seifer's voice made Edea jump. She turned, heart already beating harder from unwelcome memories, and when she saw Seifer standing in the doorway, flushed with excitement and a slight smile on his face, she froze. He looked too happy. What was wrong?

“Matron, I need to talk to you,” he said, his eyes flicking over Fujin and Raijin. “It's really important.”

Oh Great Hyne. What was wrong with Seifer?

“Of course,” said Edea, gesturing for him to come into her office. Fujin and Raijin looked at Seifer questioningly, but he just smiled at them.

“I'm spending the night off-ship,” said Seifer, making them all stare. “I met a girl in town. We're going back to her place. I'll be back before we disembark. And I'm raiding the galley.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Raijin said, shaking his head and his hands at the same time. “What?”

“Girl who?” Fujin demanded, her eye flashing. Seifer was so focused that he didn't even react to the sound of her changed voice.

“Bye,” said Seifer, all but shining with happiness. Too much happiness. The last time he'd looked so happy was when he was serving Ultimecia. He turned to go and without meaning to, Edea flicked her fingers, slamming the door shut in his face before he could exit. Seifer jerked and then turned around, his eyes turning wary. “The hell?”

“Please sit down,” said Edea, collecting herself. Seifer instead turned around completely to face her head-on, his hands curling into fists. He had never responded well to being thwarted.

“What was that you said about not wanting to confine me?” He asked acidly.

“ 'Not wanting to' and 'being forced to' are two completely different things,” said Edea, making his eyes narrow. “I have questions for you, first and foremost being 'what are you thinking'?”

Seifer's eyes flashed. Literally. A lasting physical change of his time with Ultimecia were the Witch's Kisses in his eyes, making them glow subtly and marking him as one who had been remade for a sorceress's service. If his bond with Ultimecia had been a true and complete one, the marks would have glowed steadily. As it was, they flickered like lights underwater, fluctuating with the heat of his emotions in distinctly unstable ways.

“You are the biggest security risk on this entire ship,” said Edea, seeing Seifer swell with temper. “Principally because you leave it. And you want to spend a whole night away? In the company of a girl you just met? Surely you understand our concern.”

“I...” Seifer dragged his hand over his mouth, his temper twisting into manageable irritation. “Okay, fine. Yes. I get that. But this girl... You all know her.”

What? Edea saw Fujin and Raijin exchange confused glances.

“It's Quistis,” said Seifer, making his friends stare. But he was looking at Edea as he said, “We're... Well... I really like her. You know that.”

 _“Who has such a strong hold on my knight's heart?”_ Ultimecia had asked with Edea's mouth. _“Ah... The blonde girl. She said she loved you. I see traces of her on your lips... And elsewhere.”_

Considering how brightly those traces had glowed in a sorceress's vision, and considering that Seifer had been able to be distracted during his magically-induced service said quite a lot about the strength of his 'like' for Quistis.

“She's here in town,” said Seifer, starting to shine with excitement again. Edea sighed. No wonder he seemed too happy: the manic infatuation of young love was always a force to be feared. “And we're only here for one more day. Matron... You know I didn't have to come back here and tell you.”

“Yes, yes...” Edea sighed, the memory of Seifer's escape very fresh in her mind. “Still...”

_“He's going to hate me for saying this.”_

“Seifer, Quistis is still a Black SeeD and you are a fugitive,” said Edea, bracing herself. She was not sure how Seifer would react, but 'elemental flames boiling out of his arms' was not anywhere on the list. Fujin and Raijin jerked back in alarm, eyes wide. His eyes weren't the only things that reacted powerfully to flares with his emotion.

But interestingly, Seifer said nothing. He just glared. And burned. And the longer Edea looked at him, the more the shining conviction of his glowing eyes clouded with doubt.

“I will never order you to do anything,” Edea said softly. “But I must ask you to think of the worst consequences and really ask yourself if this... If she... Is worth it.”

Seifer looked away, his breath coming a little harder. Fujin and Raijin fretted in their own ways; Raijin shifted uncomfortably from side to side while Fujin chewed the inside of her cheek and looked worriedly at Seifer.

“She wouldn't do that to me,” Seifer's hope argued. “If she was after a capture, she could have nabbed me yesterday.”

 _“But maybe she needed backup,”_ Seifer's cynicism, so much greater since Ultimecia, pointed out. _“Last year you went toe-to-toe against six people at once and didn't lose. For all you know, every SeeD in the world is waiting for you around her apartment.”_

_“But the way she reacted... How she behaved when we were kissing...”_

_“Oh, like she can't fake it? Did you forget how she was gagging for it back in the prison? Quistis Trepe is more than capable of using sex to fuck with you in more ways than one.”_

But that was sex. And she'd had no choice. And six months wasn't enough time to turn a trembling virgin into a practiced seductress.

 _“She's a prodigy,”_ his cynicism argued. _“She's clever. Why do you think she wouldn't be a good actress? Look at the way she strung you along yesterday! Besides, do you really think she still loves you? Or even likes you? You fired missiles into a school full of children. You literally rained hell down on earth. You raped her when she was drugged. There's no way this is anything other than a trap.”_

_“...then at least it's baited with something I like.”_

_“What?”_

_“And if I do get caught, she would never give up Matron or the Ship, so that puts her way above any other person who nabs me.”_

He could feel his cynicism cracking to pieces in the face of his stubborn desire. Seifer took a deep breath and looked back at Edea, whose eyes narrowed subtly as she seemed to detect his resolve.

“I need to use the galley for a while,” said Seifer, the flames on his skin dying to nothing. “And I'll be back tomorrow by 2.”

“...by noon,” said Edea, her expression tightening even more.

Seifer inclined his head toward her. Behind him, he heard her office door slide subtly open. He turned on his heel and left, and when his footsteps faded down the hall, Edea looked at Fujin and Raijin. A look of perfect understanding went through all three of them and the two friends went immediately down the hall. They found Seifer raiding the galley.

“So whatcha making?” Raijin asked, coming in and leaning on the prep counter.

“Fruit salad,” said Seifer, who was in the fruit bin and pulling out apples, oranges, and other such items. “Impossible to fuck up.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Raijin. Meanwhile Fujin looked at Seifer's selections, rolled her eyes, and began replacing his selections with items that were not bruised or excessively strange-looking. Edea and Cid saved money by buying oddly-shaped foods that were not suited for the mass market. “So... You're pretty into this.”

“Yep.”

“Still like her a lot?”

“Yeah.” Seifer glanced over his shoulder. “What are you doing, Raij?”

“Just making sure you know what you're getting into,” said the older teen. “The last time you flipped this hardcore over anybody, you kinda started a war, ya know?”

“Number one, fuck you. Number two, I am not flipping. I was already flipped.” Seifer went to the walk-in refrigerator, Fujin trailing behind him, and Raijin heard his voice floating out of the cooler. “Considering that my liking her predates the Bitch Witch, I thought you'd like the normalcy.”

“Well yeah...” said Raijin slowly.

“And hey look, I'm not too damaged for intimacy, or whatever dumb shit you guys have been thinking.”

“We never said that,” said Fujin, making Seifer jump and turn around. He looked her up and down, clearly confused as to when she had gotten behind him. Then he looked intently at the collar around her neck, which was made of slim pieces of fireblasted titanium and stood about three inches high. Then Seifer brushed past her to look around and stare at Raijin, who had put his necklace on too. They were all made of the pieces of Hyperion.

“...oh HELL no,” Seifer sputtered, turning red. “You two are not following me!”

“What? No,” said Raijin, immediately looking shifty.

“Don't you fucking dare,” Seifer swore wrathfully even as he looked back into the fridge and pulled out packages of various berries. “I swear to Hyne, if you follow me to her place and spy on us, I will deliberately have the worst, kinkiest sex that can ever be imagined just to fuck with you both.”

“Meh,” said Fujin, who was asexual.

“Enh,” said Raijin, who was gay.

Seifer growled and came out of the fridge. All but throwing his selections on the counter, he then began rifling through the cabinets for bowls and a cutting board. Fujin and Raijin exchanged a look that made the darkskinned teen sigh and then come around the counter. They began to wash the fruit as Seifer set out his supplies.

“We want you to be happy,” said Fujin quietly after a few minutes had passed. “We just also want your head on straight.”

“I know,” said Seifer, calmer. “But put yourself in my shoes. What the fuck else do I have to look forward to?”

Raijin sighed. And without being asked, he started helping Seifer cut up apples and halve grapes. Meanwhile Fujin pulled out some overripe bananas and the cocoa powder to start working on chocolate banana butter.

With help, Seifer had more than enough time to cut everything, shower, and then shave. He cheated a bit by healing the shaving cuts with fire, which was coincidentally when Cid came into the communal bathroom and then just stood watching him, hands laced behind his back. He'd traded in his khakis and sweatervests for travel twill and a dragonhide vest over a weatherproofed shirt, but his posture was all Headmaster with a healthy dose of 'adoptive father' and 'first gunblade teacher' in his serious eyes.

“This is unwise,” he said without preamble.

“Story of my life,” said Seifer, inspecting his clean-shaven face for missed patches.

“Hardly.” Cid shifted his weight from side to side, which was his usual 'thinking' posture. Seifer remembered thinking the man was a cream puff, but with his returned memories of the past he realized that Cid was a lot harder and more calculating than Seifer gave him credit for. He was just preferred to be nice. “You are impulsive. But you are not unwise.”

“Yeah, well... I'm still a teenager. Leave me alone.”

“Do you know her CV?”

“CV?” Seifer had to think about that. “What, you mean like her list of classes?”

“I remember it well,” said Cid, looking up off to the side. “I had to sign off on more than half the SeeD classes Quistis wanted to take because the Instructors believed she was too young. Interrogation Theory and Practicum, Negotiation, Explosives... Deception.”

“So what? If I'm going down, I'm not taking the Ship with me,” said Seifer, getting annoyed.

“We'd prefer you didn't go down at all,” said Cid, his eyes dense with conflict. “Seifer, this is the one place in the entire world that honestly believes you had nothing to do with everything that happened six months ago. Everyone on this Ship saw Edea fight Ultimecia and lose. Everyone knows you struggled.”

“So does Quistis,” said Seifer, turning to face Cid. “She always tried to get me back whenever she had a chance.”

“And when she did not?” Cid asked, tilting his head. “I assume she tried to end it quickly.”

Seifer's eyes dropped to the ground as his chest seemed to burn. Ultimecia had killed him, but only by reopening a wound that Quistis had dealt.

“I'm not without sympathy,” said Cid, making Seifer look at him. The older man was smiling ruefully. “You should have seen Edea trying to convince me not to fall in love with her... And then not to marry... And then not to stay married, when everything started to fall apart... But I knew the love was there, so I held on. Still. We are both wounded. And...”

Cid looked down at the floor. Seifer stared at him.

“Cid...” Seifer asked slowly and reluctantly, foreboding creeping over his skin. “Are... Are you and Matron alright?”

Cid smiled sadly. “We've become very used to sleeping apart these past ten years. Perhaps... Too used to it.”

Seifer didn't think Cid was talking about literal beds. Seifer rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward.

“My point is, affection can fade,” said Cid quietly. “And sometimes all you are left with is duty. It is a cold comfort. But it will never betray you.”

“You're talking to the wrong guy,” said Seifer in a tight voice, lifting his head. “I did my duty, or what I thought it was. And now the world and my life are fucked up beyond comprehension. Cid... Thanks for the advice. But I don't care how fucking unwise it looks, I'm spending the night with her. For fuck's sake, it's just one night! You know, the only time I ever spent with her like that was at the SeeD Ball? Literally the best day of my life?”

“Plenty of people throw away their futures for a moment of the past,” said Cid evenly. As Seifer growled, Cid cocked his head and asked, “Are you sure I'm talking to the wrong person, Seifer?”

“I thought you said you didn't blame me for that shit,” said Seifer, getting angry. “You said you knew I was being controlled.”

“Blaming is not the same thing as understanding.” Cid straightened his glasses. “Actions have consequences, Seifer, one of which may be arrest or even death in your case. Please reconsider.”

“Hell no. If I'm gonna suffer the consequences, then I'm gonna suffer because of choices I actually make.” Seifer strode for the door. He fully intended to knock Cid down if the older man didn't move out of the way, but Cid just stepped aside and let him pass. Seifer ignored him.

The blinding palm strike to the back of his neck told him that he'd made a terrible mistake.

As Seifer collapsed into the hall, slamming into the floor hard enough to make the boards shake, he heard Cid make the smallest sigh before stepping around him and then picking him up. Even in his shock, Seifer knew that Cid looked portly and thick because of the muscles hidden under his fat and that Cid hadn't exactly developed the original SeeD curriculum out of imagination. Still, Seifer hadn't known the old man had it in him to use anything other than gunblades. Body numb and tingling from the blow to his neck, Seifer just barely managed to choke out a curse as Cid carried him down the hall past his room and down to the hold, his steps steady and swift.

“...kill you, old man...”

“Yes, yes.”

As Cid rounded a corner, he stopped. By now, enough of the paralysis was wearing off that Seifer could struggle weakly, and when he looked upside-down past Cid's side, he saw Edea standing in the hall. Her arms were folded. Frost flowered from her feet.

“Dear.” Her voice was very cool.

“Sweetie,” Cid returned, his voice just as calm.

And then they just glared at each other. Seifer ignored them. He contemplated setting Cid on fire but instead lifted his hand to the back of his neck, concentrating past a numbness that was rapidly turning into pain. As fire bloomed from his palm and went into the pulverized muscles to relax and heal them, Edea said to Cid, “This helps no one.”

“It also harms no one.”

“Except Seifer and Quistis.”

“Who are clearly far more important than the fifty-two orphans on the Ship,” said Cid, making Edea's eyes narrow. “Or the forty-five White SeeDs. Or you, my darling.” Seifer felt Cid's grip tighten around his waist. “You won't change my mind.”

“He's under an enchantment. No one will know it's him. And he'll be with Quistis all night.”

“Enchantments aren't foolproof. She recognized him; why wouldn't others? And Quistis has certain loyalties.” Cid straightened his glasses. “I know these children, Edea. And she will do her duty.”

“I know them better than you think, Cid. And I think both of them are thoroughly sick of duty for the moment. Put him down.”

“No.”

Edea's voice became tight. “Cid, please. This is not the way to protect Seifer.”

Cid scoffed softly, but Seifer felt the sadness in his voice. “I am not trying to protect Seifer.”

Edea said nothing. Seifer waited exactly three seconds to make sure all drama was on hold before punching Cid in the kidney. The former Headmaster went to his knees with a gasp and Seifer levered himself off, hissing in the man's ear, “Payback's a bitch.” Aloud, Seifer said, “Love you, Matron,” and fled down the hall before either of them could retaliate. Or worse, keep fighting. Seifer's heart hurt and he pretended not to know why.

/\/\/\

a/n: A lot of people misattribute aesthetic appreciation for sexual attraction, especially if they've never thought about it before. The analogy I saw online was 'shoes.' The speaker (asexual) recognizes that both people and shoes can be nice-looking, but that doesn't mean she wants to bang either of them.

Fujin's chocolate banana butter: Mash a bunch of overripe bananas. Toss cocoa powder in there until it is as chocolatey as you want. Maybe add some cinnamon. That's it.

/\/\/\/\/\


	4. Chapter 4

Seifer knew it was vain, but he wanted to look better for tonight and went back to his room to change for the second time that day. Being unable to shop on shore leave like the other White SeeDs, his wardrobe was limited and, well...boring. But he was determined to look like he was at least trying, so Seifer put on a pair of Galbadian army pants that had faded to a more civilian-like color, a black tee that was slightly small from the wash, and a gray hoodie with fitted seams that he thought looked pretty good. When he checked the time, he still had an hour. Sweet. After a second, Seifer remembered to stick his toothbrush in his pocket.

 

He had a little money from pulling in monster bounties on the open seas, so when Seifer left the Ship with the fruit salad and chocolate banana butter from Fujin, he went to the nearest store and picked up two bottle of wines and a box of condoms. The middle-aged clerk looked at him and waggled her brows, which just made Seifer snicker. Thus armed, Seifer went to Quistis's apartment, which was in the university district and located in a tight warren of narrow buildings that had probably been built more than 500 years ago. Seifer couldn't imagine anything more different than the gleaming, modern surfaces of the Garden for Quistis to live in, but as he went into the lobby of her apartment building and pressed the buzzer for apartment 51 (he'd seen her keys earlier), he realized that she probably really liked it here. It basically dripped with history.

 

“Hello?” came the beloved voice through the speaker.

 

“It's me,” he said, conscious of listeners. “I know I'm early, but can I come up?”

 

“...Sure. Just... Be prepared.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“I... May have... Started a small fire,” said Quistis shamefacedly, and when Seifer couldn't help but laugh, she exploded, “It's an old stove! I didn't do it on purpose!”

 

“Just so you know, there's no shame in eating dessert for dinner—”

 

“Oh, shut up!” He heard the lobby door clack unlocked. “And dinner is not ruined. Just... Charred.”

 

“Seals in the flavor,” said Seifer graciously. He heard Quistis sniff before the speaker cut out.

 

Quistis's apartment was in the middle of the building and accessible through a rickety lift with wrought-iron grates that had to be manually closed or through a wide spiral staircase. Seifer took the stairs; they were more picturesque and also tiny lifts made him mildly claustrophobic. When he got to about the fifth floor, the smell of burning and the open door let him know he'd arrived.

 

“So when we say a small fire, are we saying 'small' in contrast to a Firaga or...” Seifer stopped as soon as he walked into the apartment. It was a very small apartment. Almost alarmingly small, though not quite tripping his danger senses. On his left, right by the door, was the bathroom, which was Dollet-style with no shower doors, just a curtain that went around a sloped section of the floor. Ahead of him down a short hall was a tiny kitchen, something that reminded Seifer of a boat with its efficient use of space. Quistis was by the sink, looking somewhat harried as she ran water into a pot that smelled like burning, but Seifer looked at her messily put-up hair, the soot smutches on her arms, and thought privately she had never looked cuter.

 

“Very funny,” she said, not looking up from the pot. Her cheeks were pink. Seifer decided to give her a break.

 

“How old is the stove?”

 

“Ugh, fifty years old if a day. And the igniters on the pilot lights don't work.” Quistis brushed her hair from her face, putting a smear of soot on her temple. “The first time I tried to use it, I filled up the entire apartment with gas because I didn't realize I needed to use matches to make it go. My next-door neighbor nearly broke my door down.”

 

“Is that what happened today?”

 

Quistis sighed. “No... No, today I burned water. I blame you.”

 

“Me? Why?”

 

“Because I was reading the book you gave me.”

 

Seifer had almost forgotten about the books. “Oh yeah... Useful, then?”

 

“ _Very_ useful,” said Quistis with feeling. “Ever since Lunatic Pandora, I've been terrified of getting stuck in monster shape and the book has mental exercises and instructions for how to make that not-happen. It's a huge weight off my shoulders.”

 

“I can imagine,” said Seifer, coming into the kitchen proper. “Losing your mind... It's scary.”

 

Quistis just nodded, but she looked at him sidelong and then stared. Seifer smirked as her cheeks went pink and then laughed when she looked back at the sink, her face turning red.

 

“What?” He asked, tilting his head.

 

“ _I forgot how handsome he is when he cleans up,”_ thought Quistis, scrubbing the pot with focus. _“And here I am with carbon streaks and hair in my face... Ugh! Of all times for him to be early...”_

 

“Can I help with anything?” Seifer asked as he put the fruit salad in her small refrigerator. He was not particularly surprised to see a carton of boiled eggs all marked with black X's—they were likely hardboiled. There was also yogurt, a couple different cheeses, a box of salad. Healthy stuff. Boring. Seifer's eyes fell on a series of glass jars shoved all the way at the back of the fridge and he moved things aside to get a better look at them. The first one he touched had something like a lump of coal in it and he pulled it out. “What's this?”

 

Quistis glanced over her shoulder. “Dragon gallbladder.” When he looked at her strangely, she said, “According to one of the less-stupid blue magic books, you can make some sort of potion out of it that allows you to access dragon-type powers more easily.”

 

“Have you tried it?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Her mouth thinned. “Open that jar and inhale. Deeply.”

 

Filled with foreboding, Seifer nevertheless did as she said and almost threw the jar across the room. “Holy SHIT! It's like the unwashed taint of a thousand-year-old man!”

 

“And _that's_ why I'm not eating it,” said Quistis even as her mouth began to wriggle with suppressed laughter. Seifer screwed the lid back on immediately.

 

“You sure you wanna keep this? I'm pretty sure there's a weapons program somewhere that could aerosolize this thing and make a mint.”

 

“Yes, I'm keeping it. I have an herbalist friend who swears he can do something less horrible with it.”

 

“Ugh.” Seifer stuck the jar back in the fridge and closed the door. “So... What can I do?”

 

“Oh, nothing,” said Quistis, rinsing out the pot. “Maybe light some candles. It's very smoky in here.”

 

“I don't smell anything,” lied Seifer, getting to his feet. As he turned, he blinked; one section of the kitchen led out into the other half of the apartment, which ended in a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that opened out onto a balcony and turned the tiny apartment into something grand. Fifteen-foot-high ceilings covered in stamped tin made the space even more luxurious, and Seifer walked out into the living area, which was drenched in evening sun and sparsely but comfortably furnished. A red couch covered with patchwork pillows and a throw blanket took up one wall and had the Blue Magic Tome sitting on it. Dinner was set on a table that had once been a door and now rested on what looked like a pair of slim wheels.

 

“Very nice,” said Seifer, spotting an easel and a canvas in the corner just as he spoke. It was turned to face the sunlight coming from the windows, so he couldn't see what was on it.

 

“I can't take credit for the décor,” said Quistis. “I'm subletting it from someone else for my studies. Do you want anything to drink? I'm going to change...”

 

“Oh, I have wine,” Seifer remembered, glancing over his shoulder. “Two bottles, actually. Do you like red or white?”

 

“Let's start with red,” said Quistis. She left the kitchen and went down the short hall, making Seifer wonder all of a sudden where she kept her clothes. He didn't see anything like a dresser in the apartment. A few minutes later Quistis came back wearing a soft clinging dress of light grey with a light and colorful summer shawl wrapped around her neck and shoulders. Seifer noticed immediately that her pale, strong arms were bare and that she wasn't deliberately hiding them from him, which made his heart swell a little. He looked at her hair then, which she'd twisted up once more. She was blushing a bit as she looked at him, which struck him as so cute that he almost couldn't stand it.

 

“Don't you ever wear it down?” Seifer asked, gesturing at her hair.

 

“What? My hair?” Quistis touched her head self-consciously. “Not really. I don't want it to be grabbed in battle.”

 

“There's no fighting here,” he said lightly.

 

Quistis looked at him for a second before a smile of understanding went over her face. Blushing again, she nevertheless did not look away as she reached up and pulled a wooden hair fork from the twist in her hair, and Seifer sighed as waves and tides of sunny blonde hair fell over her back and shoulders.

 

“You're strange,” she told him fondly. “Shall we eat?”

 

They ate. Before burning water, Quistis had managed to come up with pasta and chicken, along with a salad and some bread that was so light and crusty that it had to have been baked just that day. Conversation was light and meaningless, as Seifer said whatever came to mind to make Quistis smile or laugh. Honestly he was very distracted, powerfully aware that they were alone behind a locked door for the first time in what felt like forever and it was hard for Seifer to ignore the voices in his head that kept repeating “HAVE SEX WITH HER” at increasingly louder volumes. But never having been one to tamely submit to anything, even (and especially, after six months ago) his own head voices, Seifer focused on being interesting. He told her stories about hunting monsters on the deck of the White SeeD Ship, learning to sail, and previously unknown duties of being an older 'child' in an orphanage, like wrangling toddlers and keeping six-year-olds from falling off the boat. He also remembered to shut up now and then to let Quistis talk, though attempts to focus on her words kept failing when he instead watched the sweet and subtle actions of her plump lips, the delicate way she brushed her new bangs out of her eyes, and the way she'd blush for no good reason other than to be adorable, which happened more and more often as the food disappeared and the wine level went down.

 

They ate dessert out on the balcony and the open sensory delight Quistis had for the chocolate banana butter on the fruit made Seifer think that he had to get Fujin whatever kind of present she wanted, because _damn._ He almost forgot to eat his food watching how Quistis licked her spoon clean and he started to wonder if she was doing it on purpose, because why else would she suck on that so sensuously...

 

“ _Just like in the classroom when she was sucking on her pencil,”_ thought Seifer, lust seeming to swell every vein in his body. _“She has no idea how sexy she is.”_

 

“ _Is this really made from bananas?”_ Quistis wondered even as her enhanced senses told her so. She was aware her sense of smell was much better than it had been, but it hadn't occurred to her until now that better smelling also meant better tasting, and she was honestly stunned by the complex sweetness of a fruit that she'd always consumed for its nutritional benefits before. As the breeze shifted, she went for another spoonful of fruit salad and then froze as she felt a plethora of heated scents hit her. When Quistis looked up, she was struck by the contrast between Seifer's outwardly calm, easy demeanor and the veritable cloud of lust-scent that was rising off him. Reaching for her. It almost felt like a physical presence caressing her skin, making her shiver as her own blood seemed to surge in response. Not like it had to go far. During dinner Quistis had been spellbound by Seifer's relaxed charm, his smile, and the way his clothes pulled distractingly over his arms and chest. Between the wine and her own lightheaded infatuation, it had been really hard to pay attention to what he said and make sure he wasn't bored when she talked about her research, the wonderful culture in Dollet, and other sundry subjects. 

 

“What?”

 

Oh shit, she was staring. “Um... W-why don't we go inside?”

 

Seifer smiled. He knew  _exactly_ what was on her mind without the benefit of enhanced smell and Quistis felt a blush that seemed to boil up over every inch of her skin. 

 

There didn't seem to be any point in putting things off, so when Seifer held out his hand, she took it and let him pull her over to the couch. She thought he would sit down but instead he half-laid on it, making her blush with the open invitation. Nevertheless Quistis sat down and then hesitantly, shyly, laid alongside him, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt his hands glide along her face and go to her hair. His breath was unsteady with the same feelings that still frightened Quistis with their intensity, but it was a relief to know he was just as nervous as she was. There was something hesitant in his touch now, which made Quistis shift against him until the long, fine presence of his body was undeniably underneath hers and there was no way he could not feel how she pulled herself against him. Both of them began to breathe a little faster and a little harder as Seifer's hands slipped down out of her hair, down Quistis's back, and reverently rested just above her hips, the flex of his fingertips making it obvious how he wanted to push her down.

 

“ _This needs to come off,”_ Seifer decided as he felt the edges of Quistis's bra and panties through her dress, the images of what she was wearing underneath setting a smolder of desire in his brain. Thin straps on the bra, thin straps on the panties and thin material all around; Seifer thought he could feel the hard points of her nipples pressing through her clothes and against his chest. The knowledge she was so maddeningly accessible made him so hard it hurt, and Seifer had to channel his intense desire through his lips lest he yank her skirt up and maybe do something she wasn't ready for. She tasted like chocolate and wine and all sorts of good things to come and Seifer sighed in anticipation. Quistis started to make soft little squeaks and moans as he kept kissing her and Seifer groaned as she shifted against him, straddling the top of his thigh. When she started grinding against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders for leverage, rational thought became impossible. 

 

“ _I want to take his clothes off,”_ Quistis thought hazily as the kissing grew too heated to be focused. When they broke apart for air, Quistis dared to look at Seifer and gasped at the soft, vulnerable look on his face. He'd always been so good at losing himself in physical sensation and knowing that _she_ was the source of his enjoyment made Quistis thrill with desire. The pressure inside her body was thick and oppressive with need, but there was a stunning ripple of pleasure that went through her every time Quistis ground against Seifer's leg, panting softly as she felt the hard press of his erection against her inner thigh. Every delicious movement made her lightheaded with growing desire. Seifer arched his hips toward hers, his breathing becoming deep and rough-edged as he dug his fingertips against her behind. Quistis kissed his neck, knowing how nice it felt to her, and the deep moan that came out of Seifer at the touch of her lips made Quistis feel like a queen. Encouraged, she continued to kiss and lick the surprisingly soft skin and Seifer shifted underneath her, clearly heated with desire as he tilted his head back for more. Quistis purred half in pleasure and half with shivery anticipation as she drank in the sight of his willing vulnerability. 

 

“ _Oh fuck, it's been so long,”_ thought Seifer, gasping for breath against the growing wave of pleasure. It was just kissing, a little petting, a _lot_ of grinding, and all of it was starting to feel too good. Seifer gripped Quistis's hips, trying to slow her down before he realized that he was the one grinding against her. He was dragging her up and down over him, his body overwhelmed with the need for this feeling as it started to meld with half-remembered dreams and fantasies. He had missed her and the future they might have had so much. From the way she was starting to writhe and moan, she had really missed him too. Quistis's soft, pillowy lips against his neck and the sensual touch of her tongue were fogging his senses too, reducing Seifer to a ball of pure want. Simple, unfettered pleasure was something he'd been suspicious of since his ordeal, but Seifer hadn't realized how much that had fucked things up for him until he realized that he was about to cum in his pants like a thirteen-year-old virgin. Seifer growled with frustration even as he felt his blood thickening with incumbent pleasure. 

 

“Ah, fuck,” he gasped, feeling Quistis's hum of confusion against his neck. Just that little tickle of sensation was enough to push him over the edge. Pathetic. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!”

 

“ _What is he swearing about?”_ Quistis wondered a split second before Seifer cried out hoarsely underneath her, clutching her to him as his entire body flexed and shook. It took her a long moment to realize what had happened. _“...No. He didn't!”_

 

“ _...shit...”_ thought Seifer, his face turning red as he came back down, still breathing hard. This was easily the most embarrassing sex thing that had happened to him in a long time... Maybe ever. At least every other time he'd shot off early, someone had at least been naked. When Quistis pulled back to look at him, Seifer found himself sweating and looking away. 

 

“ _What do I do?”_ Quistis thought, stunned. Nothing she had ever read had prepared her for this sort of situation, but she could tell from the intense color of Seifer's face that he was _really_ embarrassed. She started thinking about what he did for her when she was embarrassed and decided to try kissing him until he relaxed. When she tried to kiss his lips he turned away from her, so Quistis kissed his cheek and his temple and then down along his jaw and neck until he sighed, hugging her as tension eased out of his muscles.

 

“Lame,” he grumbled. “Sorry.”

 

Quistis laughed softly and cuddled against his neck. Her body still ached for penetration but was settling into a pleasant dull thickness that could be worked with. And she liked the idea of being so desirable that an experienced man couldn't control himself.

 

“This is fine,” she assured him, breathing deeply of his leatheramber scent. “I like being here with you.”

 

“If you give me five minutes—”

 

“Hush.” Quistis closed her eyes. She could feel the soft tap of his pulse against her lips. “We have all night. And I like this too.”

 

Oh thank Hyne. Seifer kissed the top of Quistis's head and sighed, the warmth of her acceptance easing his anxious heartbeat. He wanted to bask, but at the same time...

 

“...I need to wash my clothes.”

 

“Oh. Of course.” Quistis sat up, but she was smiling. Seifer was still embarrassed but he felt a surge of affection for her and showed her so by kissing her as sweetly as he knew how. When he pulled back, she had that dazed, dreamy look on her face that made him feel like he was in charge again. The nice thing about having fire lore was that as soon as Seifer rinsed off his pants and was assured they were clean, he dried off the water with a burst of controlled heat and looked good as new.

 

“ _But I'll feel a lot better when I actually show her what I'm capable of...”_

 

When Seifer came out of the bathroom, the dishes were in the sink and Quistis was sitting on the couch, curled into the corner with the Blue Magic Tome up on her knees. It was getting to be true evening now and Seifer thought the room was kind of dark, but as he opened his mouth to say something, he saw a weird mirror-like reflectiveness in Quistis's eyes that made him realize that she probably didn't notice. He suppressed a shiver, knowing his own eyes weren't exactly normal anymore either. And like his eyes, Quistis's hadn't changed because of mere cosmetic reasons...

 

“Something good?” He asked her as he came back to the couch. She didn't respond, so he assumed it was fascinating. Seifer touched her knee, making her snap up to look at him. Most SeeDs did not respond well to being touched unexpectedly, but Quistis's reaction actually made the pupils of her strangely reflective eyes narrow vertically like a cat's.

 

And then she blinked and her eyes went back to normal. Just like that.

 

“Sorry,” she said, blushing. “Oh, it got so dark... Let me turn on the lights.”

 

It wasn't _that_ dark but Seifer got an idea. “Can I show you something cool?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Seifer concentrated his finger lore at the tip of his index finger and poked the air. It took a bit of effort, but the look on Quistis's face as he hung a single perfectly spherical fireball in the air was well worth it.

 

“Give me your hand,” he said, smiling.

 

“Oh dear,” she said, tensing up as she nevertheless held her hand out. Seifer felt a rush of affection for her trust and tethered the fireball to her hand with a little tap of his finger. It floated over to sit about eight inches above her palm, making Quistis laugh with disbelieving delight. “And how did you learn to do this?”

 

“Electrical failure on the Ship,” said Seifer, watching as Quistis pulled the fireball around like a small balloon. “We had lanterns and stuff but then I saw Matron making witchlights and I figured, 'eh, why not'. I can do about three, but they start looking blobby after that.”

 

“Very nice,” she said appreciatively. “Is that why you don't carry Hyperion anymore?”

 

Seifer sighed and his depression banished the fireball, making the room go dark. “No. I broke it.”

 

“You broke it?” Quistis repeated, stunned.

 

“I made it do something it was never meant to do,” said Seifer, bitterly aware of the parallels. “Over and over. Set it on fire. Abused it. And it broke.” He tapped his scale mail bracelets and said, “At least it lives on.”

 

“I'm sorry,” said Quistis softly. To SeeDs, their weapons were their lives. Some people even considered them the other half of their body. She thought Seifer might belong to the second camp at the way his face turned hard and self-loathing at the thought of his faithful weapon.

 

“Well, you know...” He shrugged. “You get what you pay for. I'm just glad I can still fight.”

 

Quistis set aside the Blue Magic Tome and unfolded her legs from her curled-up posture, reaching out for him. Seifer slid up to her and lay alongside her on the couch, enjoying the sweet softness of her in his arms.

 

“So what do you want to do?” He asked, watching as a little shiver went down her skin.

 

“Ah... Do you want to watch a movie?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Well...” Quistis blushed. “If we do _that_ , I'm afraid I'll fall asleep. And then...”

 

Oh. Yeah, she had a point. “Sure. What movie?”

 

“Uhm... I have a few.” Quistis gestured over at a desk Seifer hadn't seen before, mostly because it was right underneath the cutout from the kitchen. At once he realized that Quistis's bed was lofted up over the desk, which explained where she slept in this tiny-ass apartment. “We can watch them on my computer. I don't really have a TV...”

 

“That's fine,” said Seifer, rolling off the couch. He approached the desk and was not particularly surprised to see that she had very few movies; probably only ones that she really, really liked. Seifer had no idea what any of them were but the covers were very dramatic and he started to get a sense that Quistis bought movies that just _looked_ good because they appealed to her aesthetics. He ran his hand over the DVD cases and stopped when he saw a familiar title.

 

“ _No fricking way... But it is. It_ is.”

 

Seifer pulled the DVD of 'The Sorceress's Knight' out of Quistis's little collection and couldn't help but laugh. Whether she'd done it on purpose or not, she'd chosen the exact same cover he remembered from childhood, with one notable exception.

 

“Is this autographed?” Seifer asked her, holding the DVD over his shoulder. He saw Quistis blush, but her eyes twinkled with amusement.

 

“Yes it is.”

 

“By Laguna Loire?”

 

“Yes.” She couldn't help but laugh. “I do know him.”

 

“I know you know him, just...” Seifer ran his hand over the fantastic signature, full of incomprehensible loops and a particularly stylish flourish. “I would have lost my _shit_ for this as a kid.”

 

“What about now?”

 

“Ah...” Seifer sighed. And he put the DVD down, touching it fondly, saying, “Kinda... Sour on the whole concept of servitude and knighthood.”

 

“...oh.” Quistis was almost inaudible. He could almost see her curling up with embarassment. “I guess that's not a surprise.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Seifer couldn't look away from the DVD cover. It was not a piece of stock photography, but rather someone's loving (if largely) inaccurate rendition of the movie stars themselves, painted and then photographed to wrap around a VHS cover. It lost something on a flatter and wider DVD cover. Still Seifer looked down at the painted picture of Laguna Loire, a rueful smile touching his face as he looked at the painted expression of shining conviction. “I guess only one guy can make the job look good, huh? You know... I hallucinated him. Towards the end.”

 

“Hallucinated?”

 

“Yeah.” Seifer turned, smiling half-bitterly. “Lunatic Pandora. He was, uh... Shutting everything down. Getting in my way. I got really freaked out, I thought if anybody would understand what I was doing, it would be Zefer, but...”

 

Quistis was staring at him. “Seifer...”

 

“What?”

 

“Laguna was actually there.”

 

“...the fuck he was,” said Seifer, not sure why she was pulling his leg.

 

“He was.”

 

“No he wasn't!”

 

“Yes he was!” Quistis insisted, eyes wide. “He initiated the self-destruct sequence on Adel's Tomb! Him and Sis—Ellone—both!”

 

Seifer stared at her in complete incomprehension. Quistis kept talking, hoping to snap him out of it.

 

“You know Laguna Loire's the President of Esthar. He came with us to protect Ellone since she needed to be there to shut down Ultimecia. He's known Ellone since she was a little girl... Trying to find her was how he ended up traveling across the world and writing for Timber Maniacs and making that movie...”

 

Seifer started to shake. Literally shake, like he was going to faint or vomit or both. Quistis stared in growing alarm as his hands came up to his head.

 

“You mean I... I didn't... I wasn't...”

 

“Did you think you'd gone crazy or something?” Quistis asked, stunned.

 

“It was the fucking cherry on the crazy cake!” Seifer shouted, clutching his hair. She had no idea what the look on his face meant. Was he relieved? Scared? “Holy shit, that was how I _knew_ I'd lost my goddamned mind! And you're telling me that actually happened?!”

 

Quistis nodded, eyes wide. She wasn't sure how Seifer was feeling, but she yelped as flames exploded off his skin and his hair, all but boiling out of his glowing eyes. For the first time Quistis seriously wondered just how warped Seifer's time with Ultimecia had made him.

 

Seifer felt like his head was gonna split open with the sheer amount of WHAT THE FUCK that was racing through his brain, but then he looked up and saw Quistis staring at him, her eyes wide and her mouth open like she was scared of him. That stopped him short. Seifer took a deep, hard breath and reined in his emotions, pulling in his fire lore at the same time.

 

“ _Keep it together, Almasy,”_ he told himself sternly as the buzzing start of a headache started to worry at the back of his head. _“You can't just go flinging fire around whenever. Does Fujin lose control of herself when she sneezes? Does Raijin blow up everything he touches? No. No they do not. So don't be worse!_ ”

 

“Sorry,” Seifer said, stuffing his emotions off to the side where he could deal with them later. He told himself that he was glad to have some clarification over a time he barely remembered, but this was just too weird to seriously think on right now. “It's... It's complicated.”

 

“That's fine,” Quistis said softly, her eyes still wide and shocked. “I know... Well... It must have been hard.”

 

Seifer laughed humorlessly, hopelessly, at the understatement of the year.

 

Quistis held her arms out, but Seifer couldn't bring himself to move. After a second, Quistis rolled off the couch and came up to him, hugging him tightly. Seifer hugged her back, closing his eyes as he buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply of her sweet, grounding scent. She didn't smell like nectarines anymore, but instead something even more complex and sweet, vaguely floral with a light musk that seemed to warm his senses. She was so soft and strong. Seifer felt his racing heart calm the longer he held onto her.

 

“...you pick a movie,” he told her, not wanting to do anything other than exist right now.

 

“...okay. Um... Do you want any genre?”

 

“Just something I don't have to think about.”

 

Quistis pulled away and looked at her DVD shelf. “Hmm... How do you feel about B-movies?”

 

“...How B are we talking?” Seifer asked, and then couldn't help but laugh as Quistis held up a DVD titled 'Snakes on a Train'. “Oh _hell_ yes.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Playing around a bit with the formatting to see what looks best on the web. More about the date next week.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	5. Chapter 5

So they cuddled on the couch and watched 'Snakes on a Train'. It was a patently ludicrous film involving a runaway train over the ocean, snakes as an assassination device, and am incredibly vulgar protagonist with excellent comic timing whose swears bordered on poetry. To Seifer's delight, Quistis didn't try to shush him when he couldn't stop himself from exploding at the various stupidities in the film. No, she joined in.

 

“No one would _really_ scream 'get off my dick', would they?” asked Quistis at one scene, making Seifer look at her in surprise and glee.  


 

“I don't think I could manage words in that situation,” said Seifer, which made Quistis laugh. And later in the movie, he said, “Though... If you promised to suck out the poison like she's doing, then maybe it wouldn't be so bad.”

 

“You know snake venom coagulates blood into something like gelatin, right?” As Seifer shuddered, Quistis said, “You might live though a bite in that area... But you might not want to.”

 

“Fuckin' snakes,” he said, hugging her close.

 

“That's a terrible idea,” Quistis deadpanned, making Seifer look at her flatly.

 

“Weak,” he said firmly. And then he burst out laughing, which made Quistis laugh too.

 

After the movie, they were peckish and had more fruit salad with the second bottle of wine. It was late and the conversation stalled, so when Quistis unconsciously started to glance more at the Blue Magic Tome, Seifer chuckled and suggested they read for a while.

 

“It's not weird if we're both doing it,” he pointed out when Quistis looked at him in surprise.

 

“But we're not interacting with each other then...”

 

“That's what the cuddling is for,” he said, making her blush. “Besides, every time you've had a spare moment, you are right back in that thing, and I'm curious about the book you gave me too. So let's just get the awkwardness out of the way.”

 

So lying alongside each other, Quistis read her Blue Magic Tome while Seifer started to go through the Elbaite Bible. She had translated two pertinent sections.

 

“ _The Clan of Diamonds, traditionally steadfast to their sorceresses even before they receive the power._

_Prominent names of the clan include Zirconiade, Nanaki, and al-Masi. Fire lore is the hallmark of the Diamond Clan and the blessings of the Phoenix run most strongly in the al-Masi line, which is the oldest of all the families of the Zodiac Braves and rumored to be descended from the First Knight himself. The loyalty of the Diamond Clan is legendary, though this virtue can be twisted in the service of a disloyal sorceress and at its base, be reduced to mere stubbornness. Historical alliances include the Lapis Lazuli Clan, the Tourmaline Clan, and the Amber Clan.”_

 

Underneath this introduction were pictures of three weapons, all of them strikingly black and set with something that looked like a rainbow core. They looked familiar for some reason and after a while Seifer decided it was because one of them reminded him of Hyperion, being what looked like a long, triangular sword meant to be swung with one hand and shaped in such a way that it had one long cutting edge with a point that sharpened back on itself. Seifer flipped to the next translated section, which seemed to be a story.

 

/\

 

“In the long-ago time, thousands and thousands of years ago, there was nothing of this world except the earth and sea and sky and in these times, there were many creatures that populated the world with no more wisdom or permanence than a ray of sunshine. One day the sun rose and found there was a new object in the sky, a strange blue world that moved like a fish in the vastless tracts of the ocean called Infinity.

 

“The blue world turned its gaze upon this one and opened a baleful red eye that dripped tears of blood onto this land, and all at once this peaceful world was beset by monsters. This planet felt the cries of its children, the animals, and felt the great despoiling of its surface. With great wrath, the spirit of this planet at once summoned a champion from deep within itself, birthing a powerful being who destroyed the monsters from the moon and so frightened the blue world that it closed its red eye for many, many years. Such is the birth of the Great Hyne.”

 

“The Great Hyne won dominion of this world with blood and magic, and with great satisfaction he sat upon the mountains and declared that all he saw was to belong to him. But there lay a spot of land in the shadow of a mountain that refused to be seen, and so the Great Hyne crafted tools to discipline the disobedient land. The tools were so exquisite, so magical, that the Great Hyne exhausted himself in the making of them and fell asleep even as they ran to do his bidding. First they ran in two and then four, then eight and sixteen, and hundreds and thousands of generations later, the human race was born.

 

“With singularity of purpose they applied themselves to Hyne's will and came to conquer the shadowy land and the beings that lived in it, fallen remnants of the beasts that the Great Hyne had destroyed so long ago. Thus victorious, the humans returned to the side of the Great Hyne and found him unable to communicate, so deeply slept he. And then the First War happened, as the thousands and thousands of humans felt Hyne's power in themselves and declared that they knew Hyne's will best. As the War progressed, humans separated into camps and these camps became the basis of the races that we know today.

 

“After centuries of slumber, the Great Hyne woke and found that his beautiful, wonderous tools had turned ugly and broken with bloodlust and simple animal desires. Furthermore, there were too many; they populated the world so densely that no grass could be seen, no animals could survive, and even the touch of the world itself could not be felt. As the guardian of the world, the Great Hyne decided to save all the world at the expense of his own tools, and he began to destroy them. But there were some that he saved for a greater purpose, for in them he saw the truest spirit of his first, best, original two tools. The ones he saved were the smallest and brightest children, and he gave them a gift.

 

“To the girls, Hyne gave his breath, which could shape the world with words and song, and create such a voice as to be cherished and loved by all who heard it.

 

“To the boys, Hyne gave his blood, which could command the very elements themselves and was more powerful than any creature of this world and the blue one of yore, which ever lurked in the shadows of night.

 

“Thus Hyne reduced himself for his creations, whom he now called his children. As the army of mutinous broken tools approached, Hyne's Descendants fled and spread into the world, hiding the power of the Great Hyne within their bodies. But the gift was not as free as it had appeared, for ultimately the Descendants are still Hyne's tools, and Hyne's Will never faded with time. Though the Great Hyne no longer exists, the blue world still does, and when it dares to open its bloody eye again, it will not see the Great Hyne waiting. It thus falls to Hyne's Descendants, the Sorceresses and their Knights, to defend this world from the blue one in the sky when once again the sky rains with monsters.”

 

/\

 

“ _Ah, fuck,”_ thought Seifer, squirming as he read the last line. _“I'm just screwing the pooch everywhere, aren't I? Fucking hell... Though Ultimecia didn't exactly do her duty either... And if I was just 'twisted in the service of a disloyal sorceress' then maybe it's not really my fault... Hyne, did I ever have a chance against her?”_

 

Seifer's hands tightened on the Elbaite Bible as he remembered running from Ultimecia in her castle, playing a horrible game with his fate and soul on the line. Unconsciously he smiled as he remembered his final speech to here and best of all, flipping her off. _Fuck you, bitch._

 

“ _Though I'm still not sure how I came to life... I wonder if this 'blessings of the Phoenix' bit is about more than just fire lore...”_

 

Meanwhile Quistis was frowning at her book. Since finding the hidden letters in the illuminations, she had been able to read very quickly and while the information was great, there was also something very weird in the flowery ancient descriptions. A single word on each page caught her attention and when she read them in order like a flipbook, the resultant phrases made her swallow hard.

 

“ _For the revivification of our Mother Terra_

_For the glory of the Great Eve_

_We send before us our most faithful servants_

 

“ _Summoned by the great Crystal of the first fall_

_They precede us to pave the way for our people_

 

“ _The assimilation of Gaia by Terra_

_The continuation of our world_

 

“ _Blue Sage, study well, train with fervor_

_Unify Gaia and Terra_

_To end the work begun by your ancestors.”_

 

It felt like a bad omen, the single most useful blue magic book with words only she could read containing this sort of disturbing missive. Even worse, Quistis felt something in her chest thud with a recognition-like sensation, making her feel cold and heavy at the same time. Quistis shifted uneasily, making Seifer look up. They were sitting together on the cough, legs draped over each other's, like they'd sat on the train to their one and only mission together.

 

“You saw the pictures, didn't you?” Seifer asked, his mouth quirking. “They gave me some weird dreams last night.”

 

“They're definitely strange,” said Quistis. “All of them. I think this one is the weirdest one yet,” she said, turning the book around and making Seifer rear back with perturbance in his eyes. They'd turned on the lights a while ago, but it was still dark enough that she could see the firelights flare in his sea-green eyes.

 

“I'm pretty sure I saw the non-acid version of that in Bitch Witch's castle,” said Seifer, his face screwed up with distaste. Quistis cocked her head at him.

 

“You don't say 'Ultimecia'?”

 

“...I prefer not to,” said Seifer, his eyes darkening. “Not aloud, anyway.”

 

“Why?”

 

Seifer closed the Elbaite Bible, his lips thinning. He didn't say anything for a long enough time that Quistis almost spoke aloud to change the subject, but as soon as she opened her mouth Seifer said quietly, “Because for a long time I didn't think she was gone. And...”

 

“ _And saying her name might call her to me.”_

 

Seifer exhaled as diamond-tipped claws seemed to drag over his skin, making hot shivers go over his body as his life seemed to burn and surge past the old scars. Induced by sorcery, the marks Ultimecia had cut him with only appeared when he was touched by sorcery, but Seifer was far more aware of them from a tactile perspective. When he got upset, it was like he could feel them tightening against him like string around a ham.

 

“Look, the world's not Compressed anymore, so I assume that you all killed her,” said Seifer, making Quistis nod. “Good. That's a weight off my mind. I was never sure... I mean, I was pretty sure. You came back and life went on. But...”

 

Quistis watched Seifer rub his chest, looking even more perturbed.

 

“Well... I told you. I have nightmares. Sometimes.”

 

“About what?” She asked softly.

 

“ _Serve me,”_ Ultimecia seemed to whisper in his ear, making Seifer twitch. _“Don't you miss how strong you used to be in my service? Did I not give you the tools to become even better? Did I not guide you into the man you were meant to be? Someone powerful, with purpose, and a place to belong that no one could ever take away...”_

 

“Uh... Stuff,” said Seifer, swallowing against a flutter of mixed fear and longing. He looked away, feeling cowardly as Quistis looked at him with nothing but concern. She deserved a better answer. “Bad things. Things that I want to do at the time, but then I wake up and realize how _wrong_ it all was.” He swallowed hard, adding, “Matron says there's nothing wrong with me, but I know she'll lie to me to make me feel better. The first time I had one of those nightmares, I was in the infirmary with Fujin and Raijin. I guess I was screaming in my sleep or something, because she woke me up and all I saw were these glowing gold eyes in the dark. So I punched her.”

 

“You punched Matron?” Quistis exclaimed, aghast. Seifer flinched.

 

“Yeah,” he said, flushing dark with shame. “Really hard. I knocked her out. I'm surprised I didn't kill her. Orizon nearly took my head off before Cid stopped him. But she told me I didn't do it on purpose... Even though all I saw was _'sorceress'_ and lashed out. I completely did it on purpose, but she won't hear it. She keeps telling me I'm not responsible.”

 

“Do you think you're responsible?”

 

“Yes. No.” Seifer folded his arms tightly, his fingertips digging into his skin. “I don't know. I remember making decisions but not why I made them. I remember feeling really high and good about everything, but not for any reason I can remember. It's like I was really drunk or drugged or... I don't know. Just not right, but not... _Not_ me.” He shook his head. “I don't want to talk about it right now.”

 

“That's fine,” said Quistis, even though her voice was filled with worry. “I didn't mean to bring up bad memories.”

 

Seifer laughed humorlessly. “You didn't bring it up far. It's always there. But you know...” He looked at her sidelong. “You're the only one who doesn't look at me like I'm broken.”

 

“Because you're not,” Quistis said, her heart hurting unexpectedly as she reached out, touching his knee. She was the only one?

 

“I know,” said Seifer, his eyes flicking down to her hand. “I just got pulled around...right?”

 

“Right.” Quistis suddenly brightened. “Wait right here. I have something you'll like.”

 

“What?” As Quistis sprang off the couch and went to the bookshelves around the dining table, Seifer called, “You already gave me a book!”

 

“We're not keeping score,” she shot back as she took down a box from the shelf. She came over and handed it to Seifer. “This was for Selphie originally, but I think you'll appreciate it more.”

 

Seifer looked at her strangely as he took the box, wondering what sort of present would work for both him and Selphie. As he opened it up, he looked uncomprehendingly at the cracked plate inside, which was blue and had gleaming seams of gold running through it.

 

“What am I looking at?”

 

“Kintsukuroi.”

 

“Kinsu what?”

 

Quistis smiled. “It's an Oina repair technique that puts precious metal into cracked pottery. The idea is to celebrate the breakage as part of its history rather than pretending nothing happened. Dr. Kadowaki has a few pieces.”

 

“...Nice, but I don't think I can ever celebrate what happened to me,” said Seifer, putting the lid back on the box and handing it back to her. Still, there was a lump in his throat that made his voice crack when he said, “Thanks anyway.”

 

“Worth a shot,” said Quistis, putting the box on the floor near the couch, out of the way of normal walking. As she moved, Seifer saw her stifle a yawn.

 

“Tired?”

 

“No. Just... Um... Ah...”

 

Seifer chuckled. It was nearly midnight and as Quistis tried to hide another yawn, Seifer wondered if she still thought 7:30am was 'late'.

 

“I'll be here in the morning,” he said gently, making her look at him. “Let's go to bed. Or sleep. Whatever you want to do.”

 

Quistis smiled and said nothing, but there was just enough light for Seifer to see how her cheeks turned pink.

 

On the Ship Seifer usually slept naked because he had his own room with a locking door, but he felt like that might be a tad forward so he stripped down to his boxers and his black tee. Quistis had gotten in first, and when Seifer climbed up to the lofted bed after washing up and turning off all the lights, she was wiggling underneath the sheets for some reason.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked her, and then stared as first her light scarf went over the edge of the bed and then her long, clinging gray dress. His veins swelled with heat. Seifer looked at Quistis wide-eyed and she looked back at him with eyes that seemed to shine with just as much desire and hesitancy. But the longer he looked at her, aflame with desire, the more Quistis turned red and pulled the blanket up over her face. And then completely over her head. Seifer laughed in disbelief and tugged on the blanket.

 

“Hey,” he said, tugging a little harder when the blanket didn't move. “Hey. What are you doing? Do you want me to sleep on the couch or something?”

 

The blanket snapped down as Quistis glared at him, but she made such a pretty picture with her long hair gleaming over the pillows, her blue eyes flashing, and the luminous alabaster of her neck and bare shoulders. Just that subtle indicator of her not wearing a bra made Seifer's breath stop short. When had she taken her underclothes off?

 

“Don't you _dare,_ ” said Quistis severely.

 

“Please tell me you're naked under there,” Seifer asked, his voice low and warm with anticipation.

 

Quistis blushed fiercely, but the look in her eyes was very challenging. And without saying anything, she reached out from underneath the blanket and grasped his hand. Seifer's breath hitched as she guided him over to her stomach, automatically flinching at the first brush of contact. He felt no fabric between his hand and her smooth, warm skin. Seifer barely moved his hand and whether by accident or design, felt the outside edge of his fingers brush against the swell of her breasts. There was no fabric here either.

 

“Fuck,” Seifer breathed, eyes wide.

 

“Get under the blanket,” Quistis said softly, her eyes reflecting like mirrors in the low light again. Seifer wondered if she was picking up the glow from the firelight in his.

 

Seifer slid underneath the blanket, trying not to grin like an idiot and failing. Once he was actually lying down and underneath the blanket, Quistis slid up to him and he sighed feeling the near-burning warmth of her skin. He could tell she was nervous and didn't blame her. He was nervous too and it had nothing to do with sexual performance. She was letting him touch her again. Seifer swallowed and exhaled shakily as he very slowly ran his hand over her waist, up her back, and then down her side again. No fabric anywhere. Shit. Shit.

 

“ _Thank Hyne she doesn't hold the prison against me... Does she? Ah fuck, why did I think of that? Now I can't think of anything else...”_

 

“Uh...” Seifer swallowed again. “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

 

Quistis went still. She said nothing. Seifer wondered if she was going to change her mind or push him out of bed in sheer annoyance, but instead she sat up a little, resting on her elbows and looking at him. He tried not to be distracted by the way that posture pushed her breasts together in the most invitingly soft sort of way.

 

“Are you?” She asked him point-blank.

 

“Well, yeah!” Seifer blustered, but Quistis could tell that he wasn't holding back out of respect. There was a salty, sour smell around him that made her tense.

 

“You don't...” Quistis sighed and shook her head, her lips thinning as she resigned herself to looking strange. “You don't _smell_ certain.”

 

“...what?”

 

She looked at him evenly and probably didn't do it on purpose, but her blue irises were completely cat-reflective as she said, “I said you don't smell certain. You smell scared.”

 

“How do you know what scared smells like?” He asked, equal parts challenging and curious.

 

“Just observation around town,” said Quistis, her gaze flicking down to the sheets. “And... Well, if you really want to talk about that, we can. But I want to know why _you're_ scared.”

 

Seifer groaned and rolled onto his back, remembering at the last second that he was on a lofted bed and would fall more than his height to the ground if he wasn't careful. Scooting away from the edge of the bed, he said slowly, “Do you remember D-District Prison?”

 

“Yes,” she said, her voice going soft.

 

“What...” Seifer made himself look at her. “What was that like for you?”

 

Quistis tensed up. Seifer's heart stilled and went cold.

 

“I felt really bad about it,” she said, looking down at the sheets. “If there'd been any other way to get around you, I would have done it. But I couldn't think of anything beyond the obvious, so I'm sorry I took advantage of you.”

 

Seifer started to smile despite everything. He couldn't believe the irony. When he started to laugh, he shook his head when Quistis frowned at him.

 

“I was worried about the same thing,” he told her. “Then and now. I was worried you'd thought I was taking advantage of _you.”_

 

Quistis's eyes flickered with annoyance. “If you remember the incident like I do, I was all but screaming 'take the bait'. I would have been very angry if you hadn't gone for it. I was very frustrated with all the outs you kept trying to give me.”

 

“ _At least I never crossed that line,”_ thought Seifer with a little relief. _“At least I didn't just... Oh thank Hyne. I mean she seemed pretty happy with everything so far, but I just didn't know for sure...”_

 

“So you're really fine?” He asked.

 

“As fine as you are,” she reassured him, making Seifer smirk at the phrasing. “We're both alive, we're together... Let's leave the bad parts of the past behind and just move on.”

 

“I can do that,” said Seifer, starting to smile. Absolved of a guilt that had haunted him for the past six months, he snugged himself to Quistis's side and kissed her on the lips, making her sigh. Quistis rolled onto her back to embrace him, pulling him on top of her at the same time. Seifer shifted his weight so he wasn't crushing her but sighed at the feel of her underneath him. She was so inviting over that core of iron strength and primal power. Quistis ran her hands up his back and under his shirt as he kissed her and ground her subtly against the mattress, making her moan very softly and then start to try dragging his shirt off over his head. Seifer pretended like he didn't know what she wanted and slid a little further down to press a line of soft, hot kisses down her neck, hearing her noises become both more heated and more frustrated as he would not let her take off his shirt. He slid down even further and felt her hands still on his back as he began to tease her breasts, and in a very short time Quistis was writhing underneath him, arching to press against his mouth.

 

Then with no warning other than an irritated little snarl, Quistis yanked his shirt off over his head and sent the shirt flying over the bed, which made Seifer burst out laughing.

 

“Aren't you eager all of a sudden?” He teased, touching her face.

 

“We have twelve hours and counting,” she said, making him look at her in surprise.

 

“You planning to stay up all night?”

 

“Are you planning to keep me up all night?”

 

“...hmm...” Seifer grinned slowly. “I can try. But _you_ have to slow down.”

 

Quistis looked annoyed. “I've had six months of waiting—”

 

“And so have I—”

 

“And I really want—”

 

“You're gonna—”

 

“Please—”

 

“Just wait—” Seifer laughed when Quistis glared at him. “What?”

 

“Stop that,” she told him severely.

 

“Stop being predictable,” he told her, kissing her lightly on the lips. “And relax. I want to make it good for you.”

 

She blushed at that. “I-it's always good... But I, umm...”

 

Seifer couldn't help but snicker as he ground against her again, making Quistis shudder and cry out softly as his hardness pressed against her heat. Her blush became darker and she dug her fingernails into his back out of pique and desire as he said, “Let me guess... You want this, right?”

 

She buried her face against his chest. Even with a lot of wine in her she was still so nonverbal, which made Seifer briefly wonder just how tipsy she'd been after the SeeD Ball. She'd been begging for it then.

 

“Okay,” said Seifer, taking pity on her. He pressed one last kiss to her chest before rolling off her, saying, “I gotta get the—”

 

“No.”

 

He looked at her strangely. “No?”

 

Quistis lifted her arm and pulled the skin tighter, making Seifer see the faint white line of a birth control implant. “We're fine.”

 

“...When did you get that done?” Seifer asked, nevertheless smiling as he slid back to her.

 

“Is that really important now?” She asked him, making Seifer laugh before she kissed him on the lips. Lust and carefree joy focused Seifer on Quistis's willing desire, running his hand down the center line of her body and then veering to the side at the last second even as she arched in anticipatory pleasure. The eagerness she had for him sent a rush of satisfied power though Seifer's veins and unconsciously he licked his lips, feeling his blood surge again. He pushed down on her mound with his hand and then ran his fingers between her legs, groaning softly when he thoroughly felt how wet she was. When had she gotten this way?

 

“ _Well, she did get all revved up earlier,”_ Seifer remembered, still with a flush of embarrassment. But that poofed away when he felt Quistis grab onto his wrist, a thin whine escaping her throat. He could see her face tightening up with silent begging, her nails scratching over his arm. Impatiently Seifer shrugged off the blanket and sat up, sighing softly in deepest appreciation as he got to see every inch of Quistis's perfect body. Scars swam over her arms like schools of silvery fish, highlighting her strength and beauty. There were few cuts elsewhere; she was either too canny to get hit or had always been able to heal herself in time. Either way, she was fast and clever and for tonight, all his.

 

With her free hand Quistis reached out for Seifer, her fingertips brushing his scarred chest. As Seifer saw her eyes darken with consternation, he caught her hand and kissed her knuckles. He could tell she was upset about the starburst scar on his chest, a small dot of healed skin surrounded by hairline rays that went over his entire chest and torso. He'd gotten the wound from her. But he didn't want to focus on that either, so looking into her eyes, Seifer thrust two slickened fingers into her and all but purred as Quistis cried out and arched, her worries puffing away in the face of sensation. She was enticingly tight. Knowing no one else had touched her in the past six months made a possessive, dragon-like glee explode in Seifer's chest as he pulled his fingers in and out of her, trying to get her to relax. Still, Seifer winced as she  _really_ started digging her nails into his wrist and he had to glance down to make sure they weren't turning into claws. It was always a fine line between teasing and making someone the un-fun sort of frustrated, and considering how little patience Quistis was proving to have right now, she was very close to that mark. He pulled off his boxers and dropped them over the side of the bed, delicious anticipation thrumming in his veins.

 

“Ready?” Seifer asked her, nearly laughing as she nodded furiously. “Are you sure?” He asked her again even as he positioned her legs for better penetration. Quistis blushed but nodded again, her eyes shining. “Tell me if it hurts.”

 

The first press of contact had Quistis panting as electrifying sensation seemed to roll up from between her legs. She grabbed onto Seifer's shoulders and felt him wince, and with a wrench of effort Quistis put her hands on the sheets instead, clawing unsatisfyingly at the fabric instead. She felt Seifer's low groan as he swept one hand down under her waist and grabbed her behind, pulling her onto him even as he pushed. It felt strange and blunt and like they'd _never_ had sex before, which made Quistis hiss in frustration. Was six months between times too long? It was like her body was locking up of its own accord and even as good as it felt, it didn't seem possible that they were going to fit together.

 

Then Seifer tilted something slightly differently and Quistis couldn't help but scream a little as suddenly he was inside her, sending a rush of completely indescribable pleasure surging through her body. The deep groan that came rolling out of him felt as good to her ears as his cock did between her legs and Quistis found herself grabbing Seifer's shoulders again as he pressed in even further. Something bloomed like fire and flowers in sunlight and left her breathless, eyes wide open as pure sensation filled her. Seifer panted above her, captivated by the sight of her even as she saw him struggling with the pleasure flowing through him too. It felt amazing and perfect, like everything was finally right again.

 

“Fuck,” Seifer groaned, sighing deeply. “You okay?”

 

“Uh-huh,” she panted, eyelashes fluttering from the sensation. It felt like seeing dye go through water, filling her and changing her into something more intense.

 

“Okay.” Seifer kissed her sweetly and deeply until her shuddering gasps evened out, but the second she started to relax he started to move and Quistis nearly forgot to breathe as he rocked them towards release. The thick roil of his scent mixing with the smells of lust and her own desire was more intoxicating than the wine had been, rendering her almost helpless as seemingly every sense was stimulated at once. Especially touch. Every stroke made her pant and seemed to push a moan past her lips that just got louder as time went on, and she could feel how Seifer liked that, how he pushed into her harder and faster until there was a pleasure-filled jolt of impact at the end of every stroke, punctuated with a cry. He tangled his hands in her hair and drank her cries of ecstasy like wine, unable to keep himself from responding in kind as his movements got rougher and more mindless. The accident from earlier hadn't seemed to have affected his stamina at all.

 

Neither of them had looked at a clock before climbing into bed, but by the time they ended, gasping and way too warm for any sort of blanket or sheet, the moonlight was coming in through the open windows like long fingers through the apartment instead of squarely across it. Too exhausted and sweaty to move, Quistis felt herself falling asleep alongside Seifer the longer she lay still and basked in the physical pleasure. Seifer seemed to be falling asleep too, one hand on her hip. It felt perfect in ways she couldn't quite describe and for the first time in her life, Quistis understood how it felt to never want a moment to end. For Seifer, reuniting with the best part of his old life felt like closing the door on everything that had happened with Ultimecia.

 

“Well FINALLY,” someone yelled from outside, making both of them open their eyes. Seifer looked at the open windows leading out to the balcony and started to snicker, but Quistis felt her overheated face start to burn even more and she tensed up as mortification hardened her entire body.

 

“I'll get them,” said Seifer, rolling her onto her back, kissing her, and then rolling off the bed in one motion. It was very graceful but then Seifer missed the ladder and nearly threw himself onto the floor. He caught himself at the last moment with a curse and Quistis laughed when she heard something clatter off the desk; he must have kicked it by accident. But it didn't sound breakable, so she didn't worry. Instead Quistis rolled onto her side and watched Seifer walk unselfconsciously across the apartment, her smile broadening as she saw the tattoo on his low back and the glittering tracework of scars new and old all over his body. She knew a few of those were from her weapon, but like he'd said, all they proved was that Seifer had survived; she was glad he was so tough. When Seifer got to the floor-to-ceiling windows and went to close them, there were startled cries from outside, followed by whoops and laughter. Quistis blushed for her boyfriend's sake, but Seifer seemed amused.

 

“Thank you! Tip your waitress, I'll be here all week!” He called, making the people outside laugh again. Bowing as elegantly as any naked man could (Quistis had no idea if they could see everything; Seifer probably didn't care if they did), Seifer then shut every single one of the windows as lewd suggestions from both men and women outside made Quistis cover her face in shock. When he climbed back into bed, he was grinning.

 

“Doesn't anything embarrass you?” She asked him as he pulled the blankets up over them both.

 

“Only the important things,” he said, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.”

 

“...goodnight,” said Quistis shyly, curling against his chest. She felt Seifer's arm loop over her shoulders and pull her close, and this time they really fell asleep.

 

/\/\/\

 

The final cash tally was 83 gil short, but this was the first time Dwayne had had security cameras in the store to catch the thief. He was pretty sure it was Bellana, but didn't want it to be; Bellana was a working grandmother with a sick grandchild thanks to her druggie daughter and if anyone needed extra money, it was her. Nevertheless stealing was stealing, so with a stomach that trembled in anxiety and the thrill of the hunt, Dwayne watched the tape of the last shift of the store, his eyes on Bellana's hands and the register. The camera was situated so he could see the register and customers at the same time, because the store _had_ been robbed several times before, the last time being only about a month ago. Times were hard for everyone since the end of the Second Sorceress War, but come on, people.

 

In any case, Dwayne sat in the office, drinking a beer and watching four hours of footage on 4x speed so he could get home at a decent time. People came and went in gray flickers that caused little interest, and from time to time Dwayne would pause and rewatch sections if things looked strange. Usually it turned out to be people counting out individual cents for change or bringing funny things up to the counter. Dwayne chuckled at the person who checked out with rope, a utility knife, five popsicles, and a small bottle of cooking oil and was about to hit 'fast forward' again when a muscular young man with black bracelets and a vaguely familiar scar came to the register. He was holding two bottles of wine and a box of condoms. Dwayne narrowed his eyes at the young man and paused the image, staring as memory struggled to come to the forefront of attention. Dwayne _knew_ he'd seen the guy before, but how?

 

“ _Did he rob me? No... No, that guy was skinnier and shorter. Is he from the neighborhood? No, he can't be... No one's got a scar on his face like that...”_

 

The scar... That SCAR...

 

Dwayne pressed forward frame by frame, and as the young man smirked and gathered up his purchases, Dwayne suddenly yelled and sprang up from his seat, spilling beer all over the floor in his shock. He recognized that scar, that face, that smirk! It was all over the world, usually under the words:

 

WANTED

for crimes against the nation of Galbadia and associated territories

 

SEIFER ALMASY

age 18

hair: blond

eyes: green

height: 6'2”

facial scar, diagonal starting from under right eye and ending above left eye

 

ARMED AND DANGEROUS

5 MILLION GIL AWARDED FOR CAPTURE, DEAD OR ALIVE

 

Dwayne stared breathlessly at the security video. It was a good angle that had more than 3/4ths of Seifer Almasy's face in frame, and there was no way anybody could claim otherwise. But what to do? Dwayne wasn't stupid enough to think he had the skills or the strength to track Almasy down and bring him in for the money, and calling things into a tipline was a crapshoot; they might not pay out even if the information _did_ lead to capture, probably pretending that they'd already known the location of the fugitive.

 

“ _But... There's people outside the government who'd pay for this information, right?”_

 

Dwayne rubbed his hand over his mouth and ten seconds later, nodded firmly. He had just enough computer know-how to take a screenshot of the money-making frame and an account on a popular forum. Something like “MESSAGE ME FOR LOCATION; 10% FINDER'S FEE” would get hits, right?

 

Right.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: There has to be conflict somewhere. Though I did have a lot of fun writing the weird mythology. Art tumblr has been updated.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	6. Chapter 6

Mindful of the vanishing time, Seifer and Quistis made love again as soon as they woke up, then again after a late breakfast and a shared shower since the water tank in Quistis's apartment was small and unpredictable. Quistis was somewhat sore afterwards but she told herself it was worth it. There was no telling when they'd be able to meet again. Or ever. She was afraid to ask what Seifer was planning on doing with himself, but to her surprise he started telling her as they walked down to the harbor together hand in hand. It was freakishly bright out, so Quistis was wearing a broad-brimmed hat and sunglasses to keep herself from getting sunburned and blinded at the same time. Seifer carried the Elbaite Bible under one hand, uncharacteristically somber. On the blue sea, the White SeeD Ship seemed to wait like a sleeping dragon.

 

“I'm probably gonna leave the Ship in a few months,” he said as they walked down the sloping path to the dock district.

 

“Oh?” Quistis looked at him, surprised. “Why?”

 

“Bored. Pointless.” Seifer squeezed her hand and smiled affectionately at her. “Lonely. Also I'd like to get away from all the screaming children and the drama.”

 

“Drama?”

 

Seifer winced. “Uhh... Yeah. Cid and Matron aren't doing well.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I think he's always loved her more than she's loved him,” said Seifer, thinking of the way they interacted with each other.

 

Quistis looked down at the ground. “I guess I can see that... If they loved each other the same amount, they would have figured out how to stay together, right?”

 

“Nah... I don't think it's that,” said Seifer, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think... Well, Cid said they just got used to sleeping alone. I feel like it was a time and distance thing...”

 

Seifer looked down when Quistis squeezed his hand, her face hidden by the brim of her hat. The words of comfort stuck in his throat, so he just squeezed back. That was when he felt a rustle in his pocket.

 

“Did you put something in my pants?”

 

“Yes...” said Quistis softly. “But don't look at it in front of me. It's very embarrassing.”

 

Seifer blinked at her and then smiled slowly. “Do you still have that CD I made you?”

 

Quistis nodded, the brim of her hat wobbling. “It cheers me up. Especially after we parted ways in the castle...”

 

“Yeah, what was that about?” Seifer asked, looking at her. “I thought the last time we really interacted was in Lunatic Pandora, and I don't remember turning my back on you then.”

 

“Oh, that,” said Quistis, touching her cheek. “Well... I'm not surprised you don't remember. I was hiding and you were... Dead.”

 

“Dead?” Seifer repeated. He sorted through his memories. “So you were in the chapel, then. You saw me and Bitch Witch.”

 

Quistis nodded, her eyes darkening as she remembered the surge of fear and anguish that had flooded her veins when Seifer had fallen. Nevertheless (and only because he was alive and well now) Quistis smiled and told him, “Your last action was _very_ you.”

 

“She deserved it,” said Seifer, grinning at the memory of flipping off Ultimecia. But then he went silent for a while, finally saying, “I don't know how I survived that.”

 

“I do,” said Quistis, making him look at her. “I threw a Phoenix Pinion on you. It hit you in the hand.”

 

“So that's where this came from,” murmured Seifer, looking at the back of his left hand. He wasn't wearing gloves, so the white, featherlike starburst on the top of his middle metacarpal was very visible.

 

“It looked like she was trying to turn you into some sort of undead warrior creature,” said Quistis, making Seifer look at her sharply. “It scared me. So I threw the Pinion and the Phoenix came. And chased her off. It actually hovered over you and said, 'Mine'.”

 

“Neat,” said Seifer, thinking of the Elbaite Bible now. 'The blessings of the Phoenix' was apparently quite a literal thing, though he still wasn't sure what that meant.

 

They walked on in silence for a while, both of them trying to absorb the nuances of the moment. It was a nice day made wonderful from each other's company and neither one of them wanted things to be merely 'good' if they could help it. The need to interact with each other for as long as possible seemed to simmer in their veins.

 

“Seifer...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“When we were in the Presidential Residence and... Right before you threw me into the tree...” Quistis glared at him a bit as Seifer snorted. “What?”

 

“Nothing.” Actually he'd completely forgotten about tossing her like a sack of potatoes, even though that _had_ been the quickest way to get her away from the botched assassination.

 

“Oh, forget it,” she huffed lightly.

 

“What?” Seifer nudged her arm. “What were you about to say?”

 

“Nothing.” When he opened his mouth to call bullshit, Quistis lifted up onto her toes to brush her lips across his and he saw her eyes sparkling with humor. “I'm sorry I couldn't translate more of that book. It looks like you'd get a lot out of it.”

 

“Huh? Oh.” Seifer lifted the Elbaite Bible and looked it over, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Well, maybe Matron can do something with it. Worse comes to worst, I find an ancient Estharian and get 'em to translate it for me.”

 

“Not me?”

 

Seifer looked at her sidelong, something warm fluttering in his chest. “I'm allowed?”

 

Quistis nodded, though her gaze was subdued. “Starting the beginning of next year, I'll be back at Balamb Garden, though,” she said. “Unless I retire. But I don't know what I'd do with myself if I did.”

 

“Teach blue magic?”

 

She made a face. “I haven't mastered blue magic. And even SeeD requires that their instructors have at least two years in the field.”

 

“So you're going back into the field, then?”

 

Quistis shrugged. She looked at Seifer and asked, “What about you? When you leave the Ship... What are you going to do with yourself?”

 

“Freelance,” he said without hesitation. When she blinked at him, he said, “I've got the skills. The training. The will. And Matron's presents, so no one will even know what the hell I look like. Seems like a good fit to me.”

 

Quistis looked around. It was true that they'd walked through most of the town and no one had given them second looks. Quistis remembered how Seifer's features had appeared totally different before she'd identified him by scent and voice and wondered how non-blue-mages would ever realize it was him.

 

“ _Probably when Seifer trips himself up... He's too confident.”_

 

“I'll be a ghost,” said Seifer with relish, starting to smile with visions of the future. “A mercenary of legend. Better than any SeeD. Except for you, if you ever wanna compete again.”

 

Now Quistis looked at him archly. “You think you can match 60 missions in 2 years?”

 

Seifer smirked at her, his eyes glinting. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly and said, “You're on.”

 

“You're ridiculous,” she said, but kissed him back with a smile.

 

“Get a room,” someone muttered in passing, and this time Quistis was the one who glared, straightening her sunglasses with _just_ her middle finger. Seifer threw back his head and laughed aloud.

 

Despite them all but dragging their feet, the docks got closer and the White SeeD Ship loomed nearer. The conversation cooled and stalled out. Neither of them said anything when Quistis started holding Seifer's arm instead of just his hand.

 

“You, uh... Wanna come aboard?” Seifer asked Quistis as they neared the Ship. “Say hi?”

 

She hesitated. “You think I could?”

 

“I don't see why not. You know me... Matron... Cid...” He shrugged. “They'd be glad to see you.”

 

“...Okay.”

 

But as they neared the Ship, there was a flicker of activity on deck and Orizon came down the gangplank. Seifer tensed, making Quistis's blood cool and focus as she noticed the steel dust note in his scent sharpen. Orizon made a series of sharp signs in the air, which both Quistis and Seifer recognized as SeeD hand-signs for “Here. NOW.”

 

“The fuck did I do now,” Seifer muttered disgustedly, his face darkening. Then he frowned as Orizon started signing too rapidly for him to get, and when he looked at Quistis, he saw her hand in front of her chest, signing rapidly back. When he looked at her, her face had gone pale. “What?”

 

“He says...” Quistis swallowed, and when she spoke, her voice was shaky. “He says you were spotted last night. As yourself.”

 

Seifer stared, the bottom of his heart seeming to drop through the dock .

 

“The fuck you mean?” He demanded harshly.

 

“He says the bracelets don't work on cameras...” said Quistis, her voice ramping up with tension. She looked up at Seifer, saying, “You stopped at a convenience store yesterday, right? For the wine and the condoms?”

 

“Yeah...” Seifer dragged his hand over his mouth. There _had_ been a camera, but he'd been so confident in Edea's enchantments that he'd completely dismissed it. The ironic thing was that if he hadn't shaved and walked around town _without_ the bracelets, he probably would have escaped notice. Fuck!

 

“Someone must have checked the footage last night...” Quistis looked at Orizon, whose hands were almost a blur. “Yes. It's on the Net now. People know you're here. Every bounty hunter and freelancer and hired SeeD is going to come _here_ to look for you. You need to get out of Dollet right now.”

 

“For _fuck's sake,”_ Seifer snarled, his face flushing dark. Having to say goodbye was one thing, but being fucking yanked like this... He could feel the urge to set something on fire start to boil under his skin, but Quistis touched his face and made him turn toward her. Looking into her focused eyes calmed him just enough to keep the fire inside where it belonged.

 

“Become a ghost,” she told him, making him blink and then smile in slow but happy recognition. “I know you're smart enough to outrun them.”

 

“I'll fucking flank them,” he told her, his voice still edged with temper.

 

Quistis's eyes glinted with the hard professional gleam he remembered from their first and only mission together. Unconsciously he stood up straighter as Quistis said in the voice of a mission leader, “My birthday is October 4th. Make it to Deling City. There's a bar called the Horrible Revelation near the river. 11pm.”

 

“Or else,” he promised, nodding. Suddenly something nasty occurred to him and he looked around, every hair on his body seeming to prickle. If someone saw them on this open dock... If someone saw Quistis...

 

Quistis firmly grasped his face in her hands and kissed him warmly on the lips, making the growing panic stutter to a halt. He was so surprised by her forwardness that all he could do was relax into her touch, his eyes closing. They stole a few seconds more for just one more kiss, a really good kiss since it needed to last for a while. About fifty feet away, Orizon clutched his hair and cursed vituperatively under his breath.

 

“Get on the boat,” she breathed against his lips, pulling up the hood on his jacket. “Now.”

 

“See you in two months,” he whispered. In the shadow of her hat, Seifer saw Quistis flash a smile before she walked away briskly, almost making Seifer stumble with how fast and sharp she went. There was nothing to do but heave a sigh and walk back onto the Ship, which suddenly seemed too small.

 

“ _Sbrigare,_ come on!” Orizon hissed as Seifer approached, not at all deterred when the younger man glared at him with literal flames in his eyes. “We need to be gone _yesterday._ I knew we should have tested those fucking things! Move, move, move!”

 

Seifer went up the gangplank. As soon as he touched foot on the top of the deck, Seifer jerked as every White SeeD seemed to pop into existence, all of them glaring at him furiously. In the middle of them all, dressed in black and looking solemn, was Edea. Seifer felt a shiver go over his skin, making him grit his teeth against the cold on such a bright, sunny day. Sorcery again. How long had they all been standing on the top of the Ship?

 

“ _Waiting for me... Why didn't they just leave me? It would be safer...”_

 

“Ten minutes before noon,” she said, making Seifer realize why everyone had stayed. And why everyone was glaring at him. His gaze dropped to the floor under the hostile, oppressive weight of _“You. Why you? Why are you the favorite one?”_

 

“She keeps me on time,” said Seifer, stepping aside to let Orizon onto the boat as the older man started shouting orders.

 

“My office, if you please,” said Edea as the White SeeDs melted away to get the Ship moving. “We need to talk. And work.”

 

Seifer nodded, but couldn't help but look around. “Where's Cid?”

 

Edea's eyes flicked to the side. The air around her went still, not cold. Seifer consciously kept his mouth shut.

 

“Let me drop this off and I'll meet you there,” said Seifer, gesturing with the Elbaite Bible. Edea nodded and then seemed to sink through the deck of the ship, making Seifer shudder. Why was she using so much sorcery all of a sudden? Seifer tried not to think about it as he went down to his room more mundanely and put the book inside.

 

As he set it in his shelf, he remembered the paper thing Quistis had given him and pulled it out of his pocket. It was a folded piece of sketchbook paper and as Seifer opened it, a heavy silver necklace fell out. He caught it just before it hit the floor and laughed in disbelief, knowing instantly what it was. Seifer put his necklace, the only physical trace of his parents, around his neck, and looked at the sketch. It made his heart pound and hurt at the same time, because it was a drawing of him and Quistis sleeping together in bed, a sheet keeping things decorous but at the same time making it obvious what had happened or was about to happen. Underneath the sketch were two lines, one of them a copy of the calligraphy that was on the inside of Seifer's necklace and the other a line written in Quistis's neat script.

 

“ _Without sense or reason, always. Q.”_

 

Seifer refolded the sketch and stuck it in the Elbaite Bible, unable to keep from smiling. Two months. It was going to be a long time.

 

/\

 

Quistis did not have to go out of her way to find out the news about Seifer Almasy being seen in Dollet. By 5pm, the formerly relaxed town now crackled with hostile, competitive energy as freelance mercenaries, bounty hunters, and teams of soldiers arrived in Dollet to start tracking Seifer's steps. Fortunately for Seifer, cameras in Dollet were not common; in fact, the convenience store only had them because they'd been robbed a month ago and the owner was paranoid. But mindful that _she_ might have been spotted on camera with Seifer on their way to the dock, Quistis took a meandering path to nowhere in particular, disposed of her hat and sunglasses, and went into a thrift store wearing a dress and came out wearing skinny jeans, a baggy tunic tee, and a crocheted snood over her hair. And all the time she kept breathing subtly through her nose and mouth, passing various scents over her tongue to search for the hot-pepper zing of adrenaline. Anybody trying to track _her_ would not live to regret it.

 

But no one was so unlucky. Nevertheless Quistis spent the entire day out, killing time by hiding out in the art section of the Grand Library, buying books, and playing with baby animals in the pet stores around town. When nighttime came, Quistis ventured by her apartment and found it apparently unmolested, but she kept moving around town just in case, and after killing a few more hours by visiting every bar in the college district, Quistis at last went back home around 3 in the morning. But even then she was cautious. Looking around to make sure no one was following her, Quistis climbed up the building two doors down from hers and ran lightly across the roofs to get back to her place. As she moved, her blood seemed to hum with pleasure, which startled her a little. Before, she had always gone cold on missions.

 

“ _But this isn't a mission. This is... a hunt.”_

 

There was no goal now, just simple evade and stalk. When Quistis got to her apartment building, she had to climb down to the fourth floor via railings and enter through the balcony doors. Before going in, she took several deep breaths to make sure there were no unfamiliar scents in her abode, and when she found nothing more incriminating than the lazy scents of lust and lovemaking, she sighed in relief and entered her place. Though she was warm and did like a breeze through the apartment, Quistis not only closed and locked every window, but drew every shade and then started pre-emptively packing. Her essential things could fit into a single backpack and she had been stuffing everything else into a trunk that would get shipped to Balamb Garden later, but now she considered abandoning it all for security's sake.

 

“ _I'll see what the wind is like tomorrow... And make my choice then. It's a bad look for everyone if people find out Seifer and I were together.”_

 

Before winding down for the night, Quistis set a few traps around the apartment. Some of her monster ingredients in the fridge could create noxious gases when combined, so Quistis rigged every window and door with little paper traps that would break apart to make that happen if said apertures were opened. She padded the couch to make it look like someone was sleeping there. Her jian came to bed with her just in case. Finally, Quistis sprinkled sugar all over the floor, which was not technically a SeeD trick but a Garden student one: when walked on, sugar crunched loudly and was sometimes all the warning one needed to have before the teachers swooped down on whatever wrongdoing they could find. Quistis had seen it done plenty of times and could attest to its efficacy, and in absence of lasers or conventional motion detectors, it would have to do. Thus prepared, Quistis went to sleep and spent the night dozing instead of actually resting. However, the morning brought no unpleasant surprises. As Quistis cleaned up, she turned on the radio and listened to every news and gossip outlet.

 

“—war criminal recorded as purchasing wine and—”

 

“—responsible for the deaths of over 155,000 people worldwide—”

 

“—looks like he was in for a hot night! Though who the “lucky girl” is, is anyone's guess—”

 

A sharp rapping on the door made Quistis turn and breathe deeply. She smelled bittersweet red wine, currants, thyme, berries, steel dust, and camellia oil, along with a slightly sharper base that identified the person as female. There was also a smell that was leather, ginger, honey, lemon, and white pepper that belonged to a man. Most importantly neither of them smelled like fear or adrenaline, which made Quistis relax.

 

“Let us in,” said Xu, sounding irritated.

 

“Hold on, there's sugar all over the floor,” Quistis called back, clearing a path. When she opened the door, she saw Xu was wearing civilian clothes that made her look like a mid-teenager instead of the 29-year-old woman she was, and standing behind her wearing a beanie pulled low to hide his scar was Squall, appearing as the surly teen he was at heart. But the look in their eyes was professional SeeD.

 

They came in and locked the door behind them. Xu went over to the radio and turned it to meaningless pop music before turning around and hand-signing for Squall and Quistis to go to the living room. Quistis put on a kettle for tea and pretended not to notice as Xu and Squall systematically searched the apartment for listening devices and other things.

 

“Okay,” said Xu tersely after about five minutes. “We're clear. So, you've heard?”

 

“About Seifer being in Dollet?” Quistis said evenly. “Yes.”

 

“...That's _all_ you've heard?” Squall asked, his eyes narrowing.

 

“Why?” She looked at him strangely, foreboding chilling her stomach. “Is there something else?”

 

Xu sighed heavily. “Is there something else... _Of course there's something else!_ People talk, Qu. And ever since Seifer Almasy became Public Enemy Number One and the 5-Million-Gil Man, people have been asking about his past. Which includes you.”

 

“So?” Quistis folded her arms, her gaze cooling. She'd been so focused on her blue magic research that she hadn't paid attention to any sort of news in months. “Garden students know better than to talk. An indiscreet SeeD candidate is no SeeD at all.”

 

“Yeah, but they're richer,” snapped Xu, making Quistis's eyes narrow. “People know you two were an item for like a day right before everything went to hell. Now you're on sabbatical, he's on camera buying wine and condoms, and everyone is wondering how the hell a chronic fuckup like Seifer Almasy evades capture for six months _without help.”_

 

“We fixed the dates so it looks like you started traveling to Trabia last week,” said Squall as Quistis went numb with shock and horror. The distant possibility she'd thought of last night had been closer than she'd thought, especially as Squall added, “Still, it doesn't look good.”

 

“You need to come back right now,” said Xu, her eyes flashing. “Take the Assistant Headmaster position and make it clear where your loyalties lie. Otherwise...”

 

“I need to sit down,” Quistis said faintly, touching her head. Xu and Squall exchanged a glance before Xu sighed and went into the tiny kitchen, leaving Squall to watch as Quistis slid slowly into a seat at the dining table and put her head in her hands. He took the opposite seat, folding his arms and leaning on the table so his shoulders hunched like an owl's.

 

“He was here, wasn't he.” Squall did not ask. Quistis just inclined her head. “Look, I don't think you've been helping him. For one thing, I don't know how you two would have gotten in contact. And for another thing, well...” His mouth quirked humorlessly. “You never had a problem treating him like an enemy, even if you didn't feel like it. In any case, is he gone?”

 

“Very gone.” Quistis said softly. Seifer and Squall had a peculiar relationship that seemed stronger than the madness of Time Compression and the Second Sorceress War. “And very far away. I have no idea where he is.”

 

“I believe you,” said Squall quietly. Then to Quistis's surprise, he asked, “How was he?”

 

“...normal...” said Quistis slowly, making Squall raise his head. “I mean it. He was... Laughing. Happy. Relaxed. But if you talked about what happened back then, he'd just... Go dark. And withdraw. I don't think he really knew what he was doing. He told me he has nightmares and he won't say Ultimecia's name aloud.”

 

Squall just nodded. His eyes flicked up as Xu came back and he sat back in his chair, his posture going into more formal lines as he said in a louder, less personal voice, “We don't like having to take you away from your sabbatical, but this is to protect you as much as the Garden.”

 

“As the Assistant Headmaster, you're not only going to have a high position but also be surrounded at all times by Garden personnel who will keep _their fucking mouths shut_ or I'll know why,” said Xu, setting down three teacups a little harder than normal. Her dark eyes were practically crackling as she took a seat, but she pushed a steaming tea to Quistis with gentleness as she said, “I know it's been a long time. I know it's not what you wanted to do right now. But it's not just for politics, Qu, I _do_ need you. No one else can handle the sheer amount of information the AH is in charge of and you've seen me do it for years. Please... _Please_ come back. I am _this_ close to murdering Aki.”

 

“You appointed _Aki?”_ Quistis gasped, her hands flying to her face. “He has no tact!”

 

“I know!” Xu's lip curled, though it turned out to be with self-disgust. “And I thought that would be alright since I solved plenty of _my_ AH problems with telling people to fuck off, except he tells them to fuck off in such a way that it makes things worse! And he tried to appoint a new Disciplinary Committee!”

 

“And?” Quistis asked, dreading the answer.

 

“They're a joke,” said Squall flatly, making Quistis look at him as Xu picked up her teacup and swear-sipped at it. “No one respects them, either because they're stuck up or because they can't stand not being listened to.”

 

“ _How ironic,”_ thought Quistis. _“I know I've heard the same things about Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin.”_

 

“Do we even need a new DC?” Quistis asked Xu.

 

“No,” said Xu and Squall at the same time, Xu with more heat.

 

“The students are self-regulating,” said Squall, who'd had his run-ins with the DC plenty of times and was less than enthusiastic about the concept.

 

“And the rules the new guys are trying to enforce are the stupid ones,” groaned Xu. “Uniform regs and what. Lunch line caps. Late library books.”

 

“Oh dear.” Quistis tried to imagine Seifer, Fujin, or Raijin being so impossibly pedantic and felt a laugh coming on.

 

“Aki focuses on these stupid details instead of helping me like he should and I'm going crazy, Quistis,” said Xu. Quistis half-expected to see a muscle jumping by her dark upturned eye. “I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice to have Squall handling the easy contracts and everything we've got going on with Esthar, but _it's not enough._ Come back and run things the way they should be.”

 

Quistis wrapped her hands around her teacup and stared into the steaming brown liquid like the bag inside had answers for her. She remembered being awfully tempted six months ago when Xu had originally offered her the position, but being exhausted from battle and emotional upheavals, she'd taken a sabbatical instead. And now she found herself incredibly unenthusiastic about the idea of going back to the Garden at all.

 

“ _I do want to help Xu, but I'm not sure this is the right thing for me... On the other hand, what else can I do? And Xu makes a good point about being protected. If people are really gossiping about me and thinking I'm helping Seifer, someone might put a bounty on me too... For information, if nothing else.”_

 

On the other hand, no one would be able to find her in Shumi Village. Heck, Quistis only knew where it was because of Zama's explicit instructions and she doubted that even the most dedicated information-seeker would try to chase her down to that remote locale when there were fresher clues to be had. And if they did, well... It wasn't like she didn't know how to defend herself. Or was any _less_ dangerous than she'd been a year ago.

 

“I'll give you 150% the starting pay, a travel stipend, and four weeks of paid vacation,” said Xu, her voice soft and sweet. “It's the least I can do for the short notice and interrupting your plans.”

 

“And that's nice of you, but... If I go back, people will think I have something to hide.”

 

“What?”

 

Quistis spoke slowly and carefully. She was not brave enough to meet the inevitable look of disappointment in Xu's eyes. “I think it would make people even more suspicious of me helping Seifer. So... I won't go back. Not now, anyway. I'll come back at the end of my sabbatical as planned. As bad as Aki is, he _is_ loyal to the Garden. I'm sure whatever he does can be fixed, or at least dealt with.”

 

“Until you take over?” Xu asked pointedly.

 

“I'm not going to confirm that either way,” said Quistis, finally lifting her head. Xu was looking at her with narrowed eyes and thinned lips, but she didn't look exactly upset. Rather, she looked... Considering.

 

“I know your blue magic is very important to you and I am glad you're developing that,” said Xu, her cool tone somehow sounding like a blade being sharpened. Quistis unconsciously tensed. “On the other hand, you _know_ you're the best for the job not just because you've seen me at it, but because you have the right balance of care towards the students _and_ the Garden's future. Plus you have the organizational mind to create field tests on top of the regular day-to-day running of the Garden, and frankly Aki's only good for one of those tasks at a time.”

 

“Then put him on the one he's best at and delegate the other to Squall,” said Quistis, which made Squall's eyes widen in dismay. She shot him a look of apology before saying to Xu, “Squall has the same ability to organize that I do. Having him set up field exams won't be much different from assigning easy contracts.”

 

“Squall is too young.”

 

“I'm not even a year older.”

 

Xu's eyes narrowed. “You've got more experience where it counts.”

 

“Squall's experience is still pertinent, and it's more current,” Quistis replied evenly.

 

“You're still a better SeeD than he is. No offense, Squall.”

 

“But you don't need a good SeeD in the position of Assistant Headmaster, Xu. You need someone who can do the job. Aki can run the Garden's day-to-day affairs since he already knows the rulebook inside and out and he's been faculty for over ten years. Squall got most of his experience in the field and learned how to command in some of the worst circumstances we've ever seen. He can construct a field test, especially if you help him... Like I know you would help me.”

 

Xu leaned back in her seat, fingertips drumming hard on the barn door table. Her eyes were very narrow now, almost like knife-slits in her already lean face.

 

“You and I have been working together for years,” said Xu, now sounding displeased. “And I need that smooth working relationship right now. We lost a lot of people in the Battle of the Gardens and we need new ways to generate revenue and attract recruits. If you came back, it would make the news. It would shine a _good_ light on the Garden.”

 

“I'm not coming back as a publicity stunt,” said Quistis, now nettled. “And what do you mean, a _good_ light?”

 

“Most people in the world didn't know about the Garden's operations,” said Squall, making Quistis glance at him. “Specifically about our GF usage and what it does to our memories.”

 

“Everybody was marginally fine with child soldiers since every military does it, but now people are all up in arms about memory loss,” said Xu, all but rolling her eyes. “Like that's any problem if you stick to the primary meditation protocols we teach _in every class._ But all of a sudden people blame us for not being able to remember when they started walking, and we need to redo everything from scratch.”

 

Xu's dismissive attitude towards something Quistis had felt herself made Quistis tense up, and as her stomach tightened Quistis realized she was actually angry with her dear old friend. The unpleasant realization was both baffling and infuriating, especially Quistis could not think of a single time in their long, tight friendship when they'd ever truly disagreed on anything.

 

A year ago she might have capitulated. After all, it wasn't like Xu was wrong and the Garden would benefit from Quistis coming back... Especially if Aki was making things as complicated as Xu's exasperation indicated. On the other hand, the Garden wouldn't exactly go up in flames if Quistis stayed away, and Quistis had really, really been enjoying her six months out of uniform. She wanted more of it, especially if it meant actually being happy for once in her life. Resolve steeled her stomach, sitting hard in the core of a growing temper.

 

“That sounds like a problem,” Quistis said, gripping her cup more tightly. “I'm sure you and Aki will be able to come up with something.”

 

Xu's eyes seemed to flash as they widened ever so slightly in disbelief and her mouth puckered to a small, tight line that seemed to be clamping down on a shout.

 

“I need you back,” she said flatly.

 

“You _want_ me back,” Quistis corrected, not looking away from Xu's dark eyes. “But I don't want to return.”

 

“I could order you to come back,” said Xu, and Quistis stared at her for a long moment in wordless shock.

 

“And I could retire,” Quistis gritted out as her astonishment twisted into hurt.

 

“You could issue the order, but I'd be the one to enforce it,” said Squall unexpectedly, making Xu and Quistis both look at him. Looking Xu straight in the face, he said flatly, “And one thing I've learned in command is that you _don't_ give an order that won't be obeyed.”

 

“You're giving me shit now too?” Xu shot at Squall.

 

“I think it would be better for the Garden if Quistis came back after six months instead of not at all,” he replied, very calm. Then again, he had been putting up with Seifer getting a lot more heated to his face for years and _he_ didn't look at Xu as a combination of mentor, friend, and older sister.

 

“And I'm not giving you shit, Xu, I'm just making a decision you don't agree with,” said Quistis, fighting to control her temper. It was not only for composure. She could feel her monster souls rising with her temper and it felt like literally being pulled in two directions at once as she tried to maintain her focus on arguing (arguing!) with Xu and also not lose control of powers she desperately needed to understand.

 

Xu looked back at her, the anger slipping away and tightening once more into consideration. “Seifer's been here, hasn't he? And you two are picking up where you left off, aren't you?”

 

“...What makes you say that?”

 

“Security measures all over the place. Pus, the only time I've _ever_ know you to act irrationally is when **he** was involved,” said Xu, and there was a scraping noise as Squall slowly but deliberately pushed himself away from the table, eyes darting between Xu and Quistis with increasing speed and worry.

 

“And I don't blame you,” said Xu, though her voice seemed anything but understanding. “Young love is a lot of fun. However, there are things that outlast a summer fling, and—”

 

“I'm doing this for me, Xu,” said Quistis, anger throbbing in her voice. She could feel her scalp prickling and tightening with a fury that seemed to well up from somewhere below her belly button, roaring up through her core alongside sixteen monster souls that now seemed very loud in her ears. Taking deep breaths to shove them back, she ended up hyperventilating as she said, “You were fine with me learning more when I left and honestly, nothing has changed since then except for _you_ getting impatient. Don't support me only when it's convenient for you!”

 

“I am trying to give you the best opportunity you will ever have!” Xu snapped, palms slapping onto the table. Squall scooted his chair further back again, not coincidentally toward the door.

 

“It's the best one I may ever have in SeeD, but it's _not_ the best opportunity of my life!” Quistis shouted, and then yelped as hot water splashed all over her hands. She looked down at her hands and cursed, seeing shards of porcelain instead of a whole cup and long ivory claws instead of fingertips. Quistis reached up and cursed again when she didn't find her ears where they were supposed to be. That tightening over the scalp hadn't simply been temper, but rather her ears reshaping and moving up higher on her head. They were near the sutures of her skull, actually, and they had grown rather long and pointed. Grumbling, Quistis covered them with her now lightly furry hands and _willed_ them to go back to normal. She was so intent on regaining her human shape that she didn't notice Squall and Xu both staring at her, both pale, and in Xu's case, mouth wide open.

 

“You know as well as I do that most SeeDs age out at 20, unless they take up Instructorship or an admin role,” said Quistis, focusing on the mundane to cement her mind in human affairs. “And since I'm apparently unfit for Instructorship and I _know_ I don't want to be in administration forever, I have to learn how to do something else. Concentrating on blue magic and really understanding it is as good as anything else, and I can always help out Balamb Garden as a guest instructor too. This is _good_ for me, Xu, and it's good for the Garden. I wish you could see—no, I wish you could understand that. Truly.”

 

“...Okay,” said Xu, making Quistis glance up. The older woman didn't manage to hide her shock soon enough and the realization that Xu had been stunned—even scared—by how Quistis had changed sent a new dart of hurt into Quistis's chest. It took an effort for Quistis to hold her gaze on Xu as the older woman exhaled hard and shook her head, hiding her unease behind a painfully professional mask.

 

“Okay,” Xu repeated, her voice very cool. “Take all the time you need. I'm sorry for getting on your case. It's been difficult... And I do miss you, a lot. You've been a really big part of my life for the past six years, and honestly, our relationship is the only one that's stood the test of time... Mostly because you're still alive.”

 

“Xu...”

 

Xu rubbed her face, the professional mask melting somewhat as her voice softened. “I just... I'm worried about you, okay? In the Garden, I can make sure someone's got your six. _I_ can get your six. But out here... I have nightmares about stuff happening to you. They're stupid but I can't stop them, and after nearly losing you in Time Compression, I just...”

 

She looked squarely at Quistis, and though her expression was hard, it wasn't exactly uncaring. The exact opposite of it, in fact. Quistis couldn't help but smile a little lopsidedly. Xu's worry was nothing new to her and in a way, it was reassuring.

 

“Come back,” said Xu, not quite pleading. “Tell me all about your sabbatical when it's done with, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“And in the meantime...”

 

“Yes?” Quistis braced herself for some sort of final word.

 

“What's good around here?” Xu asked in forcedly casual tones, making Squall look at her in surprise. Quistis laughed softly and smiled.

 

“The pizza's good.”

 

“Hmm, sauce-cheese-bread...” Xu's mouth twisted in a half-smile, but the light was back in her eyes. Quistis suddenly wondered when the last time Xu had taken an honest-to-goodness break from the Garden for herself had been.

 

“I know a place where they put little octopuses and mussels on it,” said Quistis, delighted at the idea of spending some real friend time together.

 

“Now _that_ sounds like something I'd eat,” said Xu, while Squall made a small noise of dismay. They both ignored him. “Go now?”

 

“It's more of a lunch food. There's a very nice bakery about two blocks from here that makes wonderful sandwiches, though.”

 

“I guess that'll work for now.” She elbowed Squall. “And _you_ can pull apart everything in a sandwich, you weirdo.”

 

“I don't like things touching each other,” he grumbled, folding his arms. Quistis chuckled; she remembered little boy Squall also pulling his food apart to eat everything separately.

 

“Well, let's go then,” said Quistis, feeling much better about the future. “And make the most of the time before you two go back.”

 

“When you come back, we can do this a lot more,” said Xu, but there wasn't a particular amount of force behind her words. Quistis just smiled in understanding noncommitment, and that was the last they spoke of the subject until Squall and Xu went back to the Garden that evening.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: If anyone knows correct colloquial Italian for “hurry up/get your ass over here”, please let me know.  
  
So the original draft (and plot) had Quistis going back to the Garden, but then I realized I wasn't accomplishing what I wanted to do with the story, particularly in regards to her blue magic. So this massive retconning is taking place :P

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	7. Chapter 7

While Xu's life was more difficult with Quistis being out of the Garden, Squall was actually relieved. Quistis being gone meant he could assemble a search team for Seifer without feeling worms in his stomach if he happened to meet Quistis in the hall or see her at the weekly Garden Board meetings. Squall liked Quistis and didn't want to cause her any awkwardness, but he was still the Commander of SeeD and Seifer was a ward of Balamb Garden, which made him Squall's responsibility. Besides, better the Garden catch Seifer than anyone else. The rest of the world wanted Seifer dead, whereas Squall wanted him accountable. Seifer had turned on the Gardens first and hurt them worse than anybody else (well, except Esthar, but that wasn't all his fault). And before that, Seifer had likely known about the old orphanage gang and what they'd been to each other. Yet he hadn't said a word for so many years. Why? Questions like those were why Squall wanted Seifer back in Balamb Garden yesterday.

 

After poring through the files of active SeeDs that weren't already assigned to missions, Squall called Nina Hernandez, Alia Redthorne, and Brount Grammaire to his office. There was a brief moment of unreality when they came in and Squall faced three people he'd been having class with less than a year ago, but whatever weirdness they all felt about the situation remained behind closed lips.

 

“I have an assignment for you three,” said Squall without preamble. “However, you can say no. The target I'm sending you after is very dangerous and there's going to be outside interference.”

 

“Commander, are you sending us after Almasy?” Nina asked, her eyes sharpening with interest.

 

Squall nodded. Pops of surprise went over every face, but Nina regained focus first, followed by Alia. Interestingly a flicker of what looked like vindictive amusement went over Brount's, but it was gone before Squall could confirm it. He made a mental note anyway.

 

“I'm not in a position to go after him myself,” said Squall, making the three nod. “And neither is anyone else who's familiar with his battle skills. I selected you three because you have skill sets that are going to work well on a long international hunt and you're all good enough to take down any other teams that try to get to Seifer first. He comes back to the Garden above all else, alive.”

 

“Of course, Commander,” said Brount, inclining his head with a hard glitter in his eye. “He's going to pay for what he's done.”

 

Squall just nodded. Plenty of people felt the way Brount did, especially if they were one of the seniors who'd been graduated up to SeeD status after surviving the Battle of the Gardens.

 

“Here's Seifer's file,” said Squall, holding out a file folder that held Seifer's battle analyses, psych and kill profile, and additional notes from any number of departments. Nina took it but did not immediately start leafing through it, choosing to concentrate on Squall as he said, “Be careful. Seifer's combat average was one of the highest in the entire Garden system and he's only gotten more dangerous since his last assessment. His time with the Sorceress has given him skills and experience you've never encountered before. Suffice to say, all this information is confidential and cannot fall into outside hands.”

 

“Anything in particular we should look out for?” Nina asked, though the shadow of a frown tightened the edges of her eyes.

 

“He has an affinity for fire that lets him do things beyond para-magic,” said Squall, remembering the various forms of fire Seifer had hurled at him and his friends during his mad phase. It had almost seemed like a living thing in the way it responded to Seifer's intentions, blooming organically each time to perfectly suit his needs.

 

“He's also capable of atypical applications of normal para-magic,” said Squall, thinking back to his field test and how Seifer had created an ice slide for him and Squall to escape the XATM0-92. And on a lighter note, how Seifer had flamboyantly cast magic all over the halls to show off his new uniform.

 

“ _I wonder if that video Fujin took is still around,”_ Squall mused.

 

“What about his gunblade skills?” Alia asked, making Squall glance at her. “Have those improved at all?”

 

“He walked away from every six-on-one fight he had with us,” said Squall dryly, and saw the three go a little pale. “Assume 'yes'. And...”

 

“What?”

 

Squall mulled over his current information before deciding that looking possibly insane was no excuse for throwing valuable allies - in this case, Guardian Forces - into harm's way. “Don't summon anything against him.”

 

Nina, Alia, and Brount looked at Squall with varying expressions of confusion and incredulity. Squall understood where they were coming from. Using a GF against a single human combatant was like dropping a cinderblock on an ant.

 

“When he was allied with the Sorceress, he... He destroyed a Guardian Force,” said Squall, and as the looks of incredulity sharpened into wary disbelief, he held up his hand and said, “I don't know if he can still do it, but we can't take the chance. I don't think he can hurt them if they're just junctioned to you, but like I said, don't summon.”

 

“Will we be tempted to?” Alia muttered, now looking a little pale.

 

“Begging your pardon, Commander, and don't think we aren't flattered,” said Nina, eyes narrowing. “But why us? We're really new and our only field experience is battle. If Almasy's as strong as you say, wouldn't a bigger team be better?”

 

“The three of you graduated in the worst battle that the Gardens have ever seen,” said Squall, making them all look varying degrees of uncomfortable. “So I know you can hold your own. Seifer, however, doesn't. He's only ever had academic classes with all of you and he didn't pay attention to any martial skills that he didn't use, so he has no idea what you're all capable of. In addition, his primary weakness has always been overconfidence. If you sneak up on him, I'm sure you can knock him down before he can react. Make use of the general pool to junction yourself to the utmost. I'll give you authorization for the Forbidden spells too.”

 

Now their eyes got very wide. Ultima and Meteor were not to be junctioned lightly, and aside from Squall and his group, only a few SeeDs had ever even seen the magic let alone handled them. But the boost they gave to any statistic they were junctioned to was unbelievable and most of the time, worth the risk of spontaneous combustion or magic sepsis. Most of the time.

 

For thoroughness as much to cover some totally understandable nervousness, Nina opened the file and began to read. Alia and Brount looked over her shoulders and Squall saw the three of them start to calm a bit as the training to absorb details and plan out a mission began to take over.

 

“Commander, do you have any ideas where he might go?” Nina asked, glancing up at him. “Or what his long-term goals are?”

 

“He only has one skillset that's worth anything these days, and that's his training,” said Squall, his eyes darkening slightly. “If he wants to survive, I'm sure he'll be in some sort of bloody business.”

 

“So we'll start looking at the freelancers, then,” said Nina half to herself. “Newcomers who take high targets with no experience and win. And anybody who uses fire too.”

 

“Do you think he's going to be running with Fujin and Raijin still?” Alia asked, brows knitting.

 

“I assume that to be the case.”

 

“Our battle formation isn't strong enough to beat the DC...” said Alia doubtfully.

 

“They're all close to mid-range fighters,” said Squall, looking at Alia and then Brount. “Between Alia's rifle and Brount's para-magic, you should be fine.”

 

“ _Why am I telling them all this?”_ Squall couldn't help but think with a flicker of exasperation. He was the Commander, not a cheerleader.

 

“I'm pretty sure I can punch Almasy into next Tuesday if I get the right shot,” said Nina, looking at something in the file with a chuckle. Oddly enough, her blasé confidence was just as annoying as her teammates' worries. “His unarmed skills are in the 40's. Even drunk, I'm still twice that.”

 

“What kind of girl does Almasy like?” Brount asked, and when everyone looked at him strangely, he flushed and said, “Look, the guy obviously loses his head for women. Not just the Sorceress, but around the Garden too. He had a reputation. If he's seeing somebody, maybe we can flush her out and get a lead on him.”

 

Squall tightened his arms. Under any other circumstances he would have volunteered the information needed for this hunt, but the 'somebody' Seifer was seeing was Quistis, and even though the tabloids were the only ones gossiping about her possibly helping him, the last thing the Garden and Quistis especially needed was actually being found with Seifer in any friendly capacity. In the debriefing reports detailing their escape from D-District Prison, Squall had been very very _very_ careful not to say a damned word about the manner of Quistis's 'distraction' so as to protect her reputation, particularly since it would look extra bad now. And while Quistis was gone from the Garden and would escape a lot of gossip, it wasn't right to basically set a trap for her once she came back. Plus, Rinoa would kill him for embarrassing their friend so badly.

 

“He didn't talk about girls with me,” said Squall, his voice crushed flat from the weight of the awkwardness. “I assume he goes for ones that buy into his charm. A lot do.”

 

Brount made an unenthusiastic noise while Alia just nodded in a knowing way and Nina thinned her lips, clearly not impressed.

 

“I'd still like to collect more information for a psych profile,” Nina mused, looking back at the folder and its contents. “We'll start interviewing any exes. Including Miss Trepe.”

 

“She's in a classified location,” said Squall, which was true enough. Having been the ones to spur Esthar's technological development, the Shumi were well aware of how their tech was coveted and buried all their best secrets deep in their nearly impossible-to-access settlement. They weren't precisely humanophobic, but they were very careful about who they allowed into their village and didn't let the location be known by just anyone either.

 

“I thought she was on sabbatical,” said Alia with a frown, and Squall got the impression she was annoyed at him. Did she think he'd put Quistis on assignment or something?

 

“She is. But the location is still classified.” Something occurred to Squall as he looked upon these three SeeDs in particular. “She'll be very impressed if you have Almasy back in the Garden before her sabbatical is done.”

 

That did it. Nina smiled, Alia's eyes sparkled with excitement, and Brount puffed his chest a little. Trepies: so predictable.

 

They asked him a few more questions before leaving to interview Zell and others who had known Seifer semi-well, and as soon as they were gone, Squall locked his office door and took a few minutes to calm down. Six months into the job and he still had knots in his stomach every time he sent a team out, wondering how many of them would come back injured or at all. It was really bad with the teams hired out by Esthar because if the high numbers of insanely strong Lunar Beasts didn't get them, the air did. When Lunar Beasts died, they started decomposing almost instantly into red sludge and poison gas that shredded peoples' lungs from the inside out, and while SeeDs could withstand the damage with high junctions, it still took a toll. People came home every month with a racking cough that would eventually go away if they were lucky. The really unlucky ones came back in body bags.

 

Fortunately for Squall, he would not be sending students to their injuries and deaths any time soon. Xu had taken the responsibility of scouting out and assigning field tests, leaving Aki to handle nothing but administration, and at the moment Squall didn't have any more to do than he'd initially been assigned. But it was still too much. And if Seifer decided that the best way to escape accountability was by killing Nina or Alia or Brount... Or all three... It would be Squall's fault they were dead.

 

“ _I should be the one to go after him. Me and everybody else. But I can't leave and Quistis is gone and Zell's an Instructor now, and Selphie and Irvine both retired for real, and Rinoa... No. I can't put her back on the battlefield. I know she can handle herself, but if she panics and uses her sorceress powers, then who knows what's going to happen. And if anything happened to her_ _while we were out together..._ ”

 

A year ago Squall would have scoffed at the idea of ever letting anybody so close that what they meant to him lived in his body like an organ, essential and undeniable. He didn't know what else to call the feeling other than 'love', the uncomfortable swoop and soar of blood in his veins whenever he saw Rinoa and how it seemed like a smile was always sneaking around his face. They didn't get to see each other very much. Once a month only, in fact, because she was busy in Timber and he had his obligations too. But they made it work. They talked. And while it wasn't always easy for Squall to hold up his end of the conversation, the quiet relief Rinoa's voice brought him was very hard to do without. Especially now since Squall had seen Quistis so happy outside the Garden, and he couldn't help but wonder...

 

“ _No. Not now. I can't leave until I get some answers out of Seifer and settle the score one way or another. Only after I close this part of my life am I even going to think about starting a new one. What I said about Seifer not knowing anything but mercenary skills... That's the same for me too. I need a plan before I leave... Whenever that is.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I think it takes a special sort of person to be happy as an administrator and Squall doesn't strike me as that kind of person. I think he's capable and he can definitely get the job done well, but he still doesn't like it. And that'll bite him in the butt sometime later, maybe even onscreen.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	8. Chapter 8

“We're going _where?”_

 

“Shumi Village,” said Edea, who was plotting out their course the old-fashioned way with a compass and a sextant over a very large and well-worn map. Even after her struggle and her absence, she was still undeniably the captain and knew far more about boat maintenance than Seifer had ever expected. Cid gave the impression of being useful, but as always it was Edea who was calling the shots just below the surface. Since leaving Dollet and punching Cid in the kidneys, Seifer had stuck around Edea since she seemed to be more on his side and had learned that his orphanage mother was capable in far more than childcare. She didn't seem to mind the company. She and Cid weren't really talking to each other much nowadays. Seifer tried not to notice that.

 

“We got most of our repairs done in Dollet, but there's a couple of things for the engine that we need specifically from that location,” said Edea. She glanced up from the map. “You seem surprised.”

 

“Just... Shumi Village,” said Seifer, shaking his head. “Twice in a week I've heard of that place.”

 

“Oh? Where did you hear of Shumi Village the first time?”

 

“From Quistis,” said Seifer, making Edea blink. “She said she wanted to study blue magic.”

 

Edea chuckled. “Suddenly your interest in the Blue Magic Tome takes on new significance.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Seifer flushed a bit.

 

Edea just laughed and then looked thoughtful. “From what I remember, the Shumi typically do not teach their type of blue magic. On the other hand, Quistis has always been talented and she does learn very quickly. If she could learn the secrets of their technique and blend it with her own strength, she could develop some very interesting skills... In theory, anyway.”

 

Seifer mulled over this as Edea went back to her map. As the older woman continued to plot the course, she said, “It would have been good if she could have come with us to Shumi Village.”

 

Seifer blinked and then gaped at Edea. She didn't notice him staring however and shrugged, going back to the map like nothing of note had happened. “Oh well,” she said prosaically. “If we're fated to meet again, we will.”

 

Seifer had to leave. His head felt like it was going to split again, but rather than be caused by groundshaking realizations of truth over lies, this was happening because he couldn't believe what he was hearing. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Seifer had impulsively invited Quistis aboard in Dollet knowing that they had to leave soon to extend their time together, but why hadn't he asked about Shumi Village? She needed transport, he had a ship... What the hell? What the actual fucking hell had he been thinking?!

 

Anger roiled and overrode the logical part of Seifer's brain, which told him there was strong possibility that Quistis would have said no to such a ride. She had probably already had her own transportation arranged for months. And she'd been clear about taking another week to pack and tie up loose ends—she had that horrible dragon gallbladder to give to that herbalist, among some other stuff. In fact, Quistis almost definitely would have said no if Seifer had offered to give her a ride to Shumi Village, but... He hadn't even asked. It had never occurred to him to ask.

 

“ _If she'd said yes, we could have had some time together... And hell, I'm planning to leave the Ship anyway. I could have stuck around for a bit and we could have gotten to know each other really well while she was studying... I could have figured out something to do with myself...”_

 

The missed opportunity and the future that might have been made Seifer grind his teeth for the rest of the day. A whole week of what they'd had in Dollet, in a setting where he actually knew what the fuck he was doing... Where he was as happy as he might be anywhere else in the world and spending time with people who saw him as a person instead of a walking list of crimes...

 

“ _Damn it, I just can't stop fucking up, can I? Why didn't I just ask?”_

 

On that cheery note, Seifer fell asleep and woke up, sort of. The sky was just a bit too blue to be real, so Seifer knew he was dreaming as Cid and Matron took the Balamb Garden wards out for a day at the beach. Fujin and Raijin were there, thirteen and as carefree as they'd ever be, picking up seashells and poking dead jellies in the sand. Thirteen-year-old Squall sat under a beach umbrella, stoic in his boardshorts and a loose, open collared shirt as five-year-old Selphie poked him with a stick, giggling every time he grumbled. Irvine, also five, was building a sand castle on top of thirteen-year-old Zell, who was just old enough to start getting angry instead of upset every time Seifer called him 'chicken-wuss'. Rinoa sunned on the beach, luxuriating as a sixteen-year-old who'd had the fortune to grow into her curves perfectly and wearing a blue bikini with ruffles; Seifer had never seen her in a swimsuit, but it seemed like the sort of thing she'd wear.

 

And as he looked out into the surf, Quistis rose out of the water like a mermaid, far out and wearing her SeeD uniform. As Seifer watched, she stood on top of the waves and looked at him over her shoulder, hands laced behind her back and smiling. It seemed very natural to smile back and walk out to meet her. The water never seemed to get deeper than his ankles, even though it turned from clear blue to the color of wine and then pure black. But Quistis was never any closer. Suddenly red marks like fingers appeared around her pale throat and Seifer gasped, his blood surging with fear and locking his body to stillness, as she fell into the black water breathing bubbles.

 

At the same time, something seemed to grab his ankles and Seifer went down with a yell. It was a riptide. Matron had always warned the children about them, how they were to stay away from the beach on certain days and how they were never to go down alone. Seifer tried to swim parallel to the shore and save himself, but his chest hurt so badly and his cadet uniform seemed to suck up all the water in the ocean, dragging him down as he tried to breathe and instead thought of his obituary.

 

_Seifer Almasy, age 19. The worst knight there ever was. Responsible for 155,000 deaths and counting. Will never be missed. Or even thought of when this line is over._

 

No. _Fuck you, Almasy, move!_ Seifer clawed for the surface, which glittered too far away like stars in space and started to turn red in his eyes. His entire body seemed to burn and reform in the image someone else had defined, his every cell exploding with remembered pain. His sight went dark, only heightening his panic... And strangely enough, his sense of smell.

 

The scents of copper and iron filled his nostrils, blood and bile mixing together in an aroma that was weirdly compelling and grounding. A trickle of relief made his face spasm into a smile. As long as he could smell, even if all he could smell was blood, he was alive. Something warm and sticky, as heavy and slick as clay slip, started pouring over Seifer and he knew it was blood. Rivers and oceans of blood. It should have been disgusting but instead all Seifer could think was that it was just the perfect temperature to lie in forever. He turned over to make himself comfortable and found him staring into blue eyes clouded with death, and Seifer jerked upright. It was a junior classman, cut almost into three pieces and bleeding from wounds that were deep and cauterized around the edges from a burning sword. Seifer's right hand burned and he turned to see Hyperion almost melted to his hand, warping and twisting in flames. It seemed to scream, boiling the blood Seifer was still lying in, and the white-hot flames roiling around the blade illuminated a carpet of dead students, dead children, dead people who had all been hacked to pieces for _his_ comfort.

 

Wordless and overwhelming horror sent Seifer surging to his feet, no longer even a hint of relaxation in his body. Corpses were everywhere. Mutilated corpses as far as the eye could see. Blood that he stood in ankle-deep simmered and then steamed around him as flames spread out from his feet in a terrible, hellish carpet. The corpses jerked from the heat as the flames overcame them and Seifer cringed as they jerked upright, cocked in weird positions as they broke into pieces before his face. Every single one of them wore a Garden uniform or a SeeD uniform. The smallest ones didn't even come up to his hip because Seifer knew that the youngest the Gardens took anybody was six years old. Everywhere he turned, the corpses surrounded him, staring at him with eyes that boiled in their sockets and ran in steaming, pustulant tears down their faces. Only the fact that Seifer knew this was still a nightmare kept him from throwing up everything he had in his stomach.

 

“Thinking about leaving the Ship, are you?” whispered a low female voice that undercut the boiling blood and roaring flames. Dread crept up Seifer's spine like cold nails being jammed into his bones. In this moment, facing a sea of corpses was better than turning around. But the corpses fell apart before her as Ultimecia appeared out of the darkness, her molten-gold eyes burning hotter than the carpet of flames. Her red robe seemed to pull in all the blood around her, matching the overlarge scarlet moon started to swell out of the darkness like an angry eye.

 

“Going out into the world?” Ultimecia murmured as she came closer. Her arms were folded, as they'd been in that long and terrible moment when she'd watched him bleed to death in the ultimate contest of wills. Seifer gritted his teeth.

 

“Go away,” Seifer whispered, seeing Ultimecia's eyes glow. He tried again, harder. “Fuck _off.”_

 

“Go away?” repeated Ultimecia, amused. She actually started to laugh. “Is that what you really want?”

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer firmly. “That is.”

 

Ultimecia just laughed harder though she didn't let him out of her sight. Seifer jerked as she vanished in a burst of white light, and in the next second the skin on the back of his neck prickled. Seifer whirled around, half-terrified of what Ultimecia might do at his back, and saw her standing waaay too fucking close, practically touching him with her breath. He nearly fell over backwards in his haste to scramble away, the sorceress-cut scars on his skin tightening in her presence and trying to pull him toward her.

 

“Delusions and lies,” Ultimecia taunted, starting to pace around him. “You live and breathe them in the most amusing sorts of ways, but the truth always comes out, doesn't it? Surely you know why you didn't ask her to come with you?”

 

Shock, then anger roiled through Seifer's veins. This bitch always got too personal. “Fuck you!”

 

“You know who you really belong with,” said Ultimecia, smiling knowingly at him. “The one who will never... Leave you alone.”

 

“YOU—!”

 

Real pain exploded across Seifer's right temple, shocking him from further fury into a reality that was strangely tilted. As Seifer's scrambled mind registered that he was on the floor somehow, he heard shouting and then Edea's voice, magically carried and rather calm, in the hall.

 

“We've encountered a fleet of pirates. All hands on deck.”

 

Pirates were common at sea. Edea's enchantments usually kept the White SeeD Ship hidden, but at the moment she was supplementing the Ship's half-fixed engine with her power and had been forced to sacrifice some shields. Seifer dragged on pants and grabbed a borrowed, basic-model gunblade out from under his bed before running out into the hall, which was a blur of activity as White SeeDs either ran to battle, hustled scared children down to the panic room/submarine in the bottom of the Ship, or laid buffs on each other before combat. If Edea said 'all hands on deck', she meant 'all hands on deck, even the fugitive ones', so Seifer met Fujin and Raijin on the top of the Ship. They were both occupied when he came up behind them, and Seifer nodded in satisfaction as he saw that six months of relative inactivity hadn't dulled their edges. Fujin in particular was an efficiently savage whirlwind of carnage, beheading and de-limbing any pirates who were trying to get onto the Ship. Raijin whacked any head that came up above the railing like he was beating carpets, but with his frame and strength it was not as funny as one might have thought. In any case, the two of them were holding the entire front port side by themselves, which was the difference that Cid Kramer's combat training made in a tight pinch. In contrast, the White SeeDs weren't able to keep every pirate off the starboard side, and after asking Fujin and Raijin if they had it (AFFIRMATIVE!) Seifer went across the Ship to do what he did best. Magic was fine and all, but the average casting time was still 2-3 seconds and people could cover a lot of ground in that time. Seifer shouldered an underperforming White SeeD out of position and whacked three pirates before she could even utter a protest. The adrenaline from his nightmare seemed to boost his speed and focus until Seifer was standing in a bare circle about fifteen feet side, surrounded by no whole bodies and quite a few with burns on them. Accomplishment and a desire for more activity soaked his veins and it took Seifer a few seconds to realize that no one else was coming at him. Mildly disappointed, Seifer looked around and saw that everyone was taking deep breaths and figuratively licking their wounds. The assault had been short but very violent.

 

“Any of ours dead?” Seifer asked a weary-looking Orizon, who was leaning against the rail and touching a jaw that was starting to purple from impact.

 

“Nah,” said Orizon, shaking his head.

 

“What'd they want?”

 

“Who the hell knows,” said Orizon, sighing. He looked at Seifer sidelong. “They probably thought there was _some_ sort of prize on the Ship, though.”

 

Seifer folded his arms, only barely aware of how cool the night air was on his blood-spattered skin. “You got something to say to me, Ori?”

 

Orizon shrugged and looked away. “We've had pirate attacks before. Big ones like this. Most of the time they were after our supplies or our kids.”

 

“The kids? Why?”

 

“Lotsa sick bastards in the world who have 'use' for kids,” said Orizon, making Seifer's lips thin. “Illegal labor. Organs. Sex work. It's anyone's guess but I don't really care. Tell ya what, though...”

 

“What?”

 

“I'm gonna miss your arm when you leave the Ship,” said Orizon, making Seifer exhale hard. “You and the other two. Everyone else isn't as quick on the draw or they hesitate... Except for Cid, anyway. Guess it's different with melee fighters.”

 

Speaking of Cid, Seifer glanced around. The older man was cleaning off his custom gunblade close to the main entrance down to the Ship itself, a respectable pile of very neatly disposed and intact bodies around him. In the moonlight and sheened with blood and gore, he looked entirely different, but then Seifer looked more closely at him and decided the coldness on his face wasn't just combat focus. Lots of the corpses around Cid looked to be missing eyes, which struck Seifer as unnecessarily brutal and indicated that Cid was in a really bad mood.

 

“Where's Matron?” Seifer asked, looking around the Ship.

 

“The prow. She's putting the not-so-badly injured under until they can be got to.”

 

Seifer glanced across the Ship, where he saw several White SeeDs lying motionless on the deck under shifting webs of white light. Something about that light made his skin crawl a bit and as he saw Edea casting another such web over someone who'd been slashed across the stomach, Seifer figured it out: they looked like the white walls of light around Ultimecia's castle in Time Compression. As he looked through the webs of light, he saw that no one was moving but that nobody was visibly bleeding either; there was no pulsing shine of arterial blood, no growing pools underneath the still bodies. Edea could stop time like Ultimecia now if she wanted, though probably not for long. Suddenly Seifer felt ill, particularly when the silvery moonlight washed Edea's eyes out to gold.

 

He was on the verge of going downstairs to wash up when Orizon reminded him that he needed to help clean up, so with any White SeeDs who still had spells left, Seifer added his elemental lore to a white-hot wall of intense fire that vaporized every last trace of carnage off the top of the Ship. Fujin blasted the ashes off to sea with a bit of wind lore, and while Raijin and the other remaining fighters went over things mundanely to make sure there was nothing frightening on the deck for the kids tomorrow morning, Seifer at last slipped away to have a private freakout in the showers. The blood had dried enough on his chest and back and clothes so he didn't leave bloody footprints in the hall, but when he turned the water on in the shower, he could see how much rinsed off him even against the dark gray of the slate tiles. A surge of bile in his throat nearly stole the strength from his knees and Seifer shut his eyes, suddenly cold despite the hot water. The smell of blood had never pierced his nostrils so strongly, nor seemed to cling to him so insistently. He hadn't brought in soap or anything to scrub with, but Seifer didn't have time to regret the decision. Instead he started scrubbing at his arms and hands with his palms, rubbing his skin an angry red as his breath came shorter. Fucking nightmares. It was just blood. It was just blood.

 

“ _One more minute,”_ came the voice in his ear. _“Let's see how dedicated you are to yourself.”_

 

Seifer pulled his fire lore to the surface of his skin, where it would heal any cuts or injuries he had, and the already-hot shower water started to evaporate on contact as heat shimmered in a barrier an inch thick over his skin. Barely conscious of the shower water around his feet starting to steam and simmer, Seifer started scrubbing at his shoulders and chest, starting to hyperventilate a little as the nightmare fragments persisted.

 

“ _You know who you belong with.”_

 

“Go the fuck away,” Seifer whispered underneath the shower spray. “I'm me now. I belong to me.”

 

Was that laughing he could hear?

 

Seifer pressed his hands over his ears, feeling himself starting to shake. Fear now warred with disgust as he kept repeating the sentiment over and over again and it didn't help fast enough. It had been over _six months,_ this was total bullshit. He was awake. He was sane. Seifer was on the verge of hitting his head against the shower wall to drive those points home when he heard voices in the hall. One of them was Raijin's.

 

“Seifer, you in here still?” called the darkskinned man, making Seifer take a deep breath.

 

“Hyne, it's like a sauna,” someone else grumbled.

 

“You better not have used all the hot water!” A White SeeD said peevishly.

 

Seifer swallowed hard and spoke like he was someone else, someone normal. “Quit your bitching, it's fine,” he called back, trying not to sound too aggressive or scared.

 

“CLOTHES,” said Fujin, and Seifer heard a rustling in the small private changing stall in front of the shower proper. Every shower had one, which was handy in a unisex situation. It actually reminded Seifer of the Garden, though he wasn't in the mood to swap peoples' belongings at the moment. He had vague memories of stealing Dincht's towel and throwing it into the girls' shower room just because he could, as well as having towel-snapping fights with Squall that raised welts on their arms and legs. The time that he'd accidentally waterboarded Raijin seemed like it had happened in another lifetime.

 

Other people being around and forcing him to pretend like nothing was wrong helped a lot. Seifer managed to pull his fire lore back under his skin, breathing very deeply and slowly as the White SeeDs and his two best friends chattered and washed off the effects of their gore. But when the smell of blood intensified once more, Seifer knew he had to get out. Fujin had taken away his bloody pants and given him a plain White SeeD jumpsuit, which Seifer pulled on without question and wore back to his room, still more damp than not and not noticing at all. Once there, Seifer took the jumpsuit off and immediately crawled into bed. The battle hadn't been hard but he was very tired now and he hoped he could go to sleep without having another nightmare. But it wasn't like a peaceful night's rest would make things any better.

 

“ _Even if I get off this Ship, there's no guarantee I'll be happier anywhere else. There's no guarantee things will be fine. I'll just be having nightmares and fucking up someplace else. The best I can hope for is that I don't fuck up anyone else in the process, and if that's the case I might as well stay here among people who don't blame me and who can contain me if I lose it again...”_

 

But he wasn't a beast. He wasn't mad anymore. The more seriously Seifer thought about staying on the Ship until he felt a little stronger and a little more stable, the more repugnant the idea became. He had never been one to prioritize safety over real goals, and Seifer had the feeling that if he let fear win this time, he'd realize how easy it was to be a coward. And he might take the easy road again and again, until the man he was trying to get back to was a more frightening thing to think about than Ultimecia. That month of madness had given Seifer enough regrets for a lifetime and he was not interested in making any more.

 

So when Seifer lay in bed, he forced himself to think of something good. He was fairly decent at that. It had been a skill he'd cultivated as a small child, born of his desire for living dreams and the happy endings that other kids got. The hazy time before falling asleep and being conscious was the best time to sink into places that were too soft and embarrassing to admit to anybody else, and he pretended for a second that he was dozing while Quistis was getting ready for bed. She was coming with them on the Ship to Shumi Village, and they had three more days of travel time before they had to part ways again. He imagined that just out of sight, she was curled up with the Blue Magic Tome, a low light on as she made vague promises to come to bed soon. He could almost see how her hair would glow in lamplight and how her changed eyes might shine a little in the dark, slightly wider than usual with the intensity of her focus. She would pull her knees up a little to rest the weight of the Tome on her stomach and pore over the pages, her eyes not on the lovely illustrations but instead on words that made real sense to her. The harder Seifer imagined, the more he thought he could nearly feel Quistis's weight on the bed, her back against the wall as she read by the light of the moon outside and her legs resting over his.

 

“ _Next time, I'm not screwing it up,”_ thought Seifer firmly as real sleep started to creep in. _“I'm not missing any chances with Quistis or anything else. I lost six, seven months of my life already on one stupid mistake. Time to get things moving again...”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Thanks to Aurenare for beta-ing and helping me get the right balance of creepy in this chapter. The easy route is not always the best route.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	9. Chapter 9

Though gunboats were technically not to be used for personal transportation, it happened that Balamb Garden needed some special parts that only the Shumi could make. That was why Quistis hopped aboard a SeeD gunboat in Dollet and three days later, stepped onto the coast of Trabia with a SeeD team escort. Two of them were from Trabia and efficiently read the map that had the somewhat vague directions to Shumi Village, though once they found the entrance to the Village, no one was sure how anyone could overlook something that resembled a huge jeweled turtle sitting in the snow. Three junior Shumi greeted them politely at the entrance and while one SeeD concentrated on drawing Ultima for the Garden's stores, Quistis and the other two SeeDs went down into the Village proper.

 

“I didn't think this place was real, to be honest,” said one of the Trabian SeeDs as they rode down on the very comfortable, large elevator. “It's just, you know... Aliens being among us is just _weird_.”

 

“The Shumi are not aliens,” Quistis said with a frown. Echoing something the Shumi Dean of Balamb Garden had once told her, she said, “They're as much of this earth as we are.”

 

“Yeah but they're not human.” The Trabian SeeD's eyes narrowed. “And you're not telling me that them being able to summon monsters out of thin air doesn't weird you out?”

 

“We live in an age of computerized magic, sentient beings being stored on circuitboards and stone, sorceresses, and monsters falling from the sky,” said Quistis pointedly. “To say nothing of that whole madness with Time Compression. The Shumi have _always_ been gifted with natural blue magic and there's nothing weird about it in the least.”

 

“Well of course _you're_ going to say that,” said the Trabian SeeD, who seemed the sort to double down rather than admit he was wrong. “You're a blue mage yourself. Of course you're going to be on their side.”

 

“And what side would that be?” Quistis asked, voice silky soft to avoid shouting with temper. “The 'alien' side, maybe?”

 

“That's not what I meant,” blustered the Trabian SeeD. “You're putting words in my mouth.”

 

“If that's not what you meant, then you should have said something else,” said Quistis, thinking of all the times she had heard Xu deliver that same harsh maxim. Communication was very important in SeeD and in some cases, literally a matter of life and death.

 

The Trabian SeeD glared, but no SeeD survived long in the field without the ability to detect and escape from danger. In this case, he shut his mouth and looked away, suppressing any unwise words that would poke the old wounds Quistis had been ignoring her whole life. Since the end of Time Compression, people had been... Well, somewhat shitty about blue magic. It was not a far leap from being horrified about monsters falling from the sky to worrying about people who could use monster skills at will, though Quistis had not yet heard of any blue mage who was able to use Lunar Beast skills. But according to the Tome, it was possible...

 

“ _And if it_ is _possible, I want to learn how to do it before anybody else. The last thing we need is for regular humans to get scared of blue mages all over again because someone lashes out in the wrong way, because the ones who will end up suffering from that the most will be the little children.”_

 

Quistis did not consciously remember much of her adoption, save that it hadn't worked out and that her adoptive parents had been horrible people. However, snippets of memories came back in dreams that only struck in moments of self-doubt or loathing, and when she had been younger and very self-conscious about her weird blue magic, adult voices hissing about her 'alien nature' and 'inhumanity' always seemed to itch in her ears. It had taken her a very long time and one fateful meeting with an adult blue mage to be alright with that part of herself, though lately her faith in her human identity had been shaken rather badly. What did it mean to be human anyway?

 

The rest of the elevator ride was very, very quiet and thankfully, rather short. As soon as the lift touched down, the Trabian SeeD practically bolted from his seat with his comrade muttering an embarrassed “I'm so sorry” to Quistis before following after him. Quistis took a moment to gather her bags before getting up and exhaling hard to release the bitterness. At least while she was in Shumi Village, she wouldn't have to defend herself from xenophobic disrespect while she was trying to figure herself out.

 

As Quistis stepped down from the lift into the village proper, she sighed softly in wonder at the warm, beautifully lit, and perfectly maintained climate of Shumi Village, 6000 meters underground and more perfect than anything she had seen above it. A sparkling lake of healthy blue-green water glittered in the distance while lush bushes and trees curled around beautiful rocks and boulders of all different colors. The gentle organic shapes of the buildings and the delicate forms of Shumi of all ages made her blood thrum with a quiet excitement, and even the sight of the “sky” being made up of hexagonal and pentagonal panels like the invisible wall around Esthar did not dim her enthusiasm. Ahead of her, the two SeeDs in black were taking charge of a couple of large crates and the non-xenophobic one was talking to a junior Shumi who was apparently delivering some very explicit instructions.

 

But the two other Shumi waiting at the bottom of the lift stairs caught and held her eye. Both were extraordinary figures. One of them was tall and so fat as to be nearly spherical, a startling figure in black and brocade with a narrowed look in his beady eyes. The other Shumi was an elder form like Zama, but very old if the deep wrinkles and somewhat saggy, deflated dewlap were any indication. More importantly he seemed too frail to stand. Quistis looked at the hovering pod that the very old Shumi sat in with some surprise, because for some reason she had never thought that Shumi could become ill. He made a barely perceptible motion with one hand and the pod floated forward towards Quistis.

 

“Welcome to Shumi Village, Quistis Trepe,” said the elder, his voice soft but still clear. “I am Makine, commonly called Elder in the village. And this is Norg. Zama indicated you are interested in the study of advanced blue magic.”

 

“I am, _”_ said Quistis with the polite bow Zama had taught her before leaving. Makine did not react, but the very fat Shumi made a noise of what sounded like approval. “Thank you for allowing me to come here. I know the Village isn't normally open to outsiders.”

 

“There were troubles long ago,” said Makine, but smiled in such a way that Quistis couldn't help but smile back. “But hopefully that time has passed. Follow us, please. Are you tired?”

 

“No, not particularly.”

 

“Excellent. Let us go to your house so you may set down your luggage. Then the training may begin.”

 

So they went, Makine in the lead and Norg behind, and Quistis walked at a brisk pace to stay between the hover pod and the black-clad Shumi's long, heavy steps. Still, it was a nice walk along the pretty lake Quistis had noticed and eventually the path led to the middle of what seemed like a Shumi neighborhood, if the density of houses and Shumi was any indication. Fiery little Moombas went about their ways in this area too, some of them apparently tending little plants or cleaning something around dwellings they shared with juvenile Shumi. A few of them waved at Makine as he floated by, but Quistis noticed that the Moombas seemed to be looking at her rather intently too. While not unfriendly, it was unnerving. Did they know something she didn't?

 

The apprehension evaporated when Quistis saw the space she'd be living out of for the next six months. It truly was a house, round in the way that Shumi structures were, and looking like a softly rounded beach boulder nestled amongst low-growing trees. The door irised open at her approach and as soon as Quistis looked in, she nodded in approval. One of the things she had loved about her Dollet apartment was how everything was arranged without a hint of wasted space, and even though the ceiling of the Shumi house was a little low, Quistis smiled at the foldaway furniture, the minimalist decorating, and even how things like drawers were flush to the walls instead of having knobs or handles that stuck out. Being rather large, Norg and Makine waited outside as she set her bags down and came back out.

 

“Oh, there's no lock on the door.”

 

“No one will disturb your things,” Makine reassured her. “But if you wish a lock, one will be installed.”

 

“...That would be a relief,” Quistis admitted, feeling obscurely bad for “distrusting” her hosts. “Thank you.”

 

“It is proper you are cautious,” rumbled Norg, making her crane her head back to meet his eyes. He was not only big around but very tall, probably nearing eight feet. “One would hope so, considering your record.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Quistis Trepe, Prodigal SeeD who passed the worst field exam of her era at the age of fifteen. Instructor at seventeen.” A sardonic smile pulled Norg's thick dewlap into a vaguely unfriendly slant. “Savior of the world at eighteen, and now here. We are quite honored.”

 

“I had help,” said Quistis, not sure what to make of Norg.

 

“Humble too. Bujururu.”

 

“Norg is to be your teacher in advanced blue magic practice,” said Makine, not so subtly flicking Norg in what would be the hip on a human. Quistis saw a ripple of motion go over Norg's side as the fat Shumi grunted and couldn't decide if that meant he was mostly blubber or Makine's finger-flick was really, really strong. “He does not easily frighten should things go... Unexpectedly.”

 

“I am also quite capable of fighting and defeating an angry blue sage,” said Norg, flexing his very large hands in a rather imposing way. “The Village will not suffer the consequences of your rampancy.”

 

“That is only if you become temporarily overwhelmed by the monster spirits.”

 

“Or completely possessed and subsequently lost, as many blue sages do.”

 

Makine flicked Norg again, now hiding a certain amount of irritation. Norg did not notice. He instead chose to look down at Quistis from his great height and nonexistent nose, and while Quistis was glad he wasn't hiding the worst from her, his attitude left something to be desired. Still, there was no point in meeting more bluster with bluster, especially when it came to butting heads with an expert in a field. This was not the first time Quistis had dealt with rude teachers who thought she wasn't capable of the work set before her, and memories of her past victories made Quistis smile. If history was any indication, she'd know more about blue magic than Norg in about six months. Upon seeing her serene smile, Norg seemed baffled and then disgruntled, which was a nice bonus.

 

“The training begins now,” said Norg to Quistis. “You will follow.”

 

“She should rest a little and eat,” said Makine with a frown.

 

“She is SeeD. And my SeeDs are not so weak.” Norg smirked when Quistis looked at him strangely. “Yes, _my_ SeeDs. I provided the funding for your Gardens. Without me, you would not be who you are today.”

 

“I would not be _where_ I am today, but I would always be me,” said Quistis. She said that to be contrary to his entitlement more than anything else, but to her surprise Norg just nodded in approval and walked off. She followed after him, academic excitement starting to prickle over her brain. Research in a library was one thing, but practical application was what she had been studying for.

 

They went to a section of lakeshore that was clear of Shumi and ringed on all sides by either tall boulders or dense trees. Makine stayed up in the village proper, which left only Quistis and Norg around when he began his teaching. Somewhat predictably it started with a lecture.

 

“Blue mages have within them the atavistic ability to change their genetic code, which is why they can assimilate and use monster skills in the first place,” said Norg, his voice smooth with the cadence of words often delivered. “Stress activates this ability, as well as survival instinct and anger. Many blue mages never go past this step, or when they do, they embrace the uncontrolled fury and become lost to it. If ever you have encountered a fearsomely strong creature with abilities beyond its type in the field, it may well have been a blue mage or sage who lost control of themselves and do not understand the way back to humanity. That will be your fate if you do not harness the triggering rage and make it your tool. Fortunately, you are SeeD. Your mental discipline is such that this particular learning process will be quick, at least in part. You are not often angry, are you?”

 

“No. I'm usually able to reason my way out of most tempers.”

 

“Do not,” said Norg, making Quistis blink. “Your ongoing assignment for your training in Shumi Village is to be completely honest with your emotions as they happen. Understand them. Honor them. And if they make you uncomfortable because you are crueler, greedier, more cowardly, or otherwise more imperfect than you thought, so be it. Only by holding onto your true self will you best the monsters within. How many monster skills do you possess?”

 

“Sixteen.”

 

“Then the odds are sixteen against your one. You must remain accordingly vigilant.”

 

He spoke with such authority that Quistis almost trusted him on instinct, but at the same time he was so rude that she wondered if he was covering any deficits with bluster. “Norg, have you taught blue sages before?”

 

“Many.”

 

“How many?”

 

“Six over the past hundred years. More earlier than that.”

 

“Only six in a hundred years?”

 

Norg nodded, his eyes narrowing not with hostility but recollection. “In the far away past there were more, but every generation dilutes the original bloodlines until there are very few mages at all, and then even fewer with the right combination of stressors to be able to activate their ancestral abilities. Blue sages are rare indeed.”

 

“Do all blue sages receive their training from the Shumi?”

 

“No. Typically a blue sage recieves instruction from a family elder or their clan, but as you have neither of these things, here you are.”

 

Norg's words seemed to take the air from her lungs. Quistis had always known there were things she'd never have or understand because of her lack of a birth family, and while she knew blue magic might be part of that deal, it still hurt to acknowledge the loss.

 

“Why do you know so much about blue magic?” She asked Norg instead. “Do all Shumi know these things?”

 

“No.” Norg ran his hands over his stomach in a preening gesture. “I am a scholar of human behavior. Your lives are so short and quick that it is possile to observe multiple generations of poor decisions and violent action, and still have time to pursue other interests.”

 

“Like the Garden?” Quistis asked, thinking about his earlier statement.

 

“Ah, the Gardens.” Now Norg sounded very pleased. “Lovely microcosms of human conditioning. Except for Balamb. That fool Cid Kramer and his anti-sorceress curriculum nearly ended the entire experiment.”

 

Quistis folded her arms, nettled. “And yet it also saved the world.”

 

“No. _You_ saved the world. And your friends. That you benefited from his curriculum is incidental to the fact.” 

 

Norg paused and stroked his long dewlap like it was a beard. With the color of his very long fingers blending into the skin of his face, it looked like he was literally pulling his chin down his chest.

 

“And the fact that the Mad Knight was also a student of the curriculum too and yet behaved as he did speaks volumes about the general ineffectiveness of Cid Kramer's teaching skills in general.”

 

“You can't blame his teaching skills when he never ran a single class.”

 

“He designed the curriculum and oversaw its implementation. I will blame him as I please. Now strip.”

 

“What?”

 

“I must assess the extent of your skills. If you have come for instruction, that means you have attained the First Transformation and can change shape. Do you wish to ruin your clothes?”

 

“My clothes stretch,” said Quistis, folding her arms.

 

“Self-consciousness about maintaining the integrity of your garments will handicap your transformation,” said Norg, narrowing his eyes. “And if you cannot follow this simple instruction, it does not bode well for your future learning.”

 

Quistis looked at Norg pointedly, narrowed her own eyes, and took a deep breath. With her temper already stirred, it was incredibly easy to imagine/feel her skin raising as golden fur sprouted all over her body, and just like they had back in Dollet, her ears pulled up near the top of her skull and turned pointed and tufted. Her spine seemed to shiver and then drop as a long tail covered with plush fur and dotted with black spots swept out from under the stretchy knit skirt of her traveling outfit.

 

Now at this point, Quistis knew she looked about half-human and half-leopard, and she fully expected Norg to be impressed at her control considering all his doomsaying earlier. She was instead nonplussed when he raised his brows and said “And?”

 

Huffily Quistis transformed all the way, but it wasn't until she dropped to all fours and shrugged her shoulders into their new configuration that she thought she might have made a mistake. It had been very, very easy to go completely into this shape and now when she looked at Norg, she didn't feel human irritation. Rather, it was hostility. To her new senses, Norg was registering as a threat instead of merely being a big fat jerk.

 

“You look ridiculous,” he told her, and Quistis hissed. “And more notably, conspicuous. Leopards do not wear clothes. Change.”

 

“No,” said Quistis. To her surprise, it actually came out as 'no', albeit a very catty-sounding 'no'.

 

“Not your clothes, foolish bujururun. Another shape.”

 

Now Quistis hesitated. In theory she knew what she had to do, but she had been so worried about losing her mind that she hadn't tried any other shapes. And what to turn into, anyway? Some of the parents shapes of her monster skills were huge. Where would the extra mass come from? And what if she got stuck as something like a Gesper? At least the leopard shape was pretty...

 

“Pride and cowardice,” said Norg, which made her glance at him. He sounded irritatingly smug. “If you cannot assume another shape, return to human. We will begin very, very basic work.”

 

“ _I'm going to look forward to the day I run rings around you,”_ Quistis seethed as she nevertheless resumed her normal body. Once again irritation seemed to grease the wheels of change. Still, she hoped not to be furious with Norg for the rest of her time in Shumi Village. It was going to be a very long six months otherwise. 

 

“ _On the other hand, Makine said something about history... I wonder what he could mean by that?”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I think the junior Shumi go by profession names (Sculptor/Builder/Artisan, etc) and the elders/big Shumi have names but are still called 'Elder' as their profession. That's why there's a mixture in this story.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	10. Chapter 10

“STAYING HERE.”

 

Raijin and Seifer stared at Fujin. They were all in the mess hall, eating breakfast, and inevitably the subject of Seifer's departure had come up. It had been a month since Dollet, three and a half weeks since Seifer's nightmare, and things were moving along well. Though Seifer was somewhat annoyed by the idea of being followed, he'd always assumed that Fujin and Raijin would leave the Ship with him. That was how they were. They were a posse. But...

 

“You're staying here?” Seifer repeated. “You're staying on the Ship?”

 

“YES.”

 

“Fuj, you can't!” Raijin was aghast. “Why?”

 

“NEED,” she said, gesturing at the Ship. The voice-soothing and disguising choker around her neck seemed to gleam as she said, “White SeeDs aren't fighters. They're runners. They need swords. Blades.” She shrugged. “And I like it here. Plus...”

 

Fujin touched the choker around her neck, which she'd never taken off once; Raijin's usually stayed in his pocket while Seifer forgot to put his bracelets on more often than not. “Edea is helping me talk.”

 

“What do you mean?” Seifer asked. Fujin's voice seemed to get smoother and more natural every day, though she still sounded stuffed-up.

 

“Speech therapy. Wind magic manipulation.” Fujin took a deep breath and spoke very carefully, some of her natural squeak and rasp coming into her stuffed-up voice. “It's so _frustrating_ not talking like everyone else. I'm tired of carrying notebooks for long conversations. I'm tired of people thinking I'm mean because I can only get out a word at a time. Here, people are patient. Edea helps me _so_ much. I'm staying.” She looked at Seifer, her expression pained, and all enchantments seemed to drop off as she said, “MISS YOU. TAKE CARE.”

 

Raijin wavered. In a lot of ways he was closer to Fujin than he was to Seifer. They came from a similar enough region of the world that when he and Fujin were really pissed at Seifer, they would break into the language of their childhood and have a rant session that Seifer was sure included every curse in the book and insults to his manhood. He let them have it; he wasn't insecure. But that was a large part of why they always seemed to move as a unit, and when Seifer saw Raijin realize Fujin wouldn't be with him, there was something like heartbreak on the darkskinned man's face. Seifer wondered if Raijin would stay too.

 

“Well... Okay,” said Raijin slowly. “But I can't do that. I'm... I'm gonna stick with Seifer.”

 

Seifer and Fujin exchanged a glance but said nothing. Almost seven months ago, on what they'd all thought was his deathbed, Raijin had confessed to having feelings for Seifer. They hadn't really talked about it since then. Raijin had never been pushy about his affection or his sexuality; in fact, he'd been so discreet that Seifer hadn't even been aware he was gay at all. But now that it was out in the open, Seifer couldn't help but wonder if there were other than friendly intentions in Raijin's action. And he was afraid to confirm or even ask, because the answer he would have to give would hurt the darkskinned man and Raijin did not deserve that. Still...

 

“ _I'm straight, Raijin. I will_ never _feel that way about you no matter how long you stick around, no matter how far you follow me. You shouldn't care about me like that...”_

 

As the target date for Seifer's departure grew closer, Seifer filled his days with making sure he was actually ready to go. This meant getting back into _real_ fighting trim with bursts of physical conditioning throughout the day and retraining with long knives and a gunblade. The latter was done by fighting Cid, who was not as fast or as strong as he used to be, but his technique was still leaps and bounds better than Seifer's and it irritated Seifer that in an equal match with equal stats, _Cid would win every time._ Seifer wasn't giving him the wins either, even though he felt Cid needed something to feel good about. Edea was very unhappy with Cid for attempting to take measures against Seifer meeting Quistis, and nowadays when Cid and Edea were in the same room, Seifer was reminded of faculty meetings at the Garden, which were some of the most unpleasantly polite things he'd ever been forced to sit through as a Committee head. The friction in this case came from neither Cid nor Edea being willing to give any ground on the issue, but the worst thing was that anyone with eyes could tell that Cid still loved Edea dearly, but Edea... Well, sometimes she was hard to read. And her love for the children was so much more obvious. Seifer didn't want to feel bad for Cid, but he did. How bad did it have to suck that the wife you loved from afar for more than a decade was just so incredibly pissed at you, to the point where she didn't even smile when you came in the room anymore?

 

At least both of them agreed that Seifer needed to leave the Ship at some point, though Edea thought it was for Seifer's well-being and Cid wanted the 5-million-gil security risk gone ASAP. Somewhat distressingly, the White SeeDs were split along the same lines, which had one group joking that Seifer should write as soon as he got settled and the other group looking postively murderous at the very idea. Seifer thought that had to do with the ages of the White SeeDs. The ones who had known Seifer when he'd been a baby thought of him as a bratty little brother and loved to rub his face in it, while the White SeeDs who'd been picked up and graduated in the ten years hence had no such experience and only saw a short-tempered, unpredictable, and somewhat paranoid fugitive who seemed to take a little too much pleasure in slaughter.  
  
In any case, Cid's schism with Edea was not the only thing on the older man's mind. Two weeks after leaving Dollet, Seifer and Cid were sparring on deck and Cid disarmed Seifer with a flick of the wrist that should have been better suited to fencing. As Seifer cursed and went to get his weapon, he turned around to see Cid leaning against the railing, looking very sad as he looked right at Seifer.

 

“What?” Seifer asked warily.

 

“When you were a child and going through that phase of being a sorceress's knight, I would...” Cid looked down at the deck. “Do you remember? I would tell you stories about famous knights... Oh, and how your eyes would shine. And you would run off and play and...” Cid took off his glasses, his mouth compressing into a thin and unhappy line. “I've feared since then that I've had something to do... A lot to do... With what happened to you. If I just hadn't told you those things, would you have...?”

 

Seifer exhaled hard, putting his gunblade on his shoulder when it looked like Cid was about to cry.

 

“You're acting like I never liked that stuff in the first place,” Seifer said, remembering how beautiful and shiny the entire concept had seemed as a child. Hell, even six months ago, right before everything had gone to hell. “You didn't make me read everything I could find on the subject. Or watch that movie ten billion times.”

 

“Movie?” Cid suddenly chuckled. “Oh, 'The Sorceress's Knight'. You know, Edea hated that movie.”

 

“What?” Seifer was surprised. “But she always put it on.”

 

“She also never stayed in the room.”

 

“...Hm.” Seifer scratched his jaw, sorting certain facts in his mind now that he knew better firsthand. “What'd she hate about it in particular?”

 

Cid's gaze flicked to the ground. “...that you liked it so much.”

 

That was not a fact he'd even considered. “Why'd that bother her? I was a kid.”

 

“She never told you when she encountered Ultimecia, did she?” When Seifer shook his head, Cid folded his arms and said, “It was when all of you were very young... Perhaps about four or five. She appeared suddenly in the orphanage and attacked Ellone, but Edea leapt on her and absorbed her powers. Ultimecia took the opportunity to take her over very slowly... And from an early age, she was interested in _you.”_

 

Seifer stopped breathing. Diamond-sharp points seemed to skim his skin and he remembered sliding backwards over silken sheets as Ultimecia approached, a look of inhuman acquisition in her eyes. He'd already felt semi-sick over that encounter, but now it was going into full-blown nausea.

 

“ _I never had a chance...”_ Seifer realized, his blood going cold. _“She was always after me... Always...”_

 

Now he remembered weird things... Really troubling things now that he was an adult. How sometimes Matron would hug him and call him her 'special boy' when no one else was around. How she would pet his hair very lightly with just her fingertips, which sometimes felt like claws. How sometimes she'd just roll her eyes at him playing at being a knight and other times she'd smile slowly, her eyes more gold than amber.

 

“So perhaps you understand why we feel like we failed you,” said Cid softly as Seifer dragged his hand over his mouth, swallowing the urge to vomit. As Seifer pulled his hand down past his mouth and chin, his hand hit the silver necklace Quistis had given back to him. The simple touch was enough to summon memory of her and in turn, the sound of her voice.

 

“ _She's out of your life,”_ Seifer heard Quistis say, soft and comforting. _“She didn't break you. She didn't ruin you. She just pulled you around for a while...”_

 

Seifer took a deep breath, settling himself in the present. Ultimecia was dead; Quistis wouldn't lie to him about that. A woman who could shoot him in the heart wouldn't lie to spare his feelings. Seifer took another deep breath, telling himself that he was going to be fine. It was so much easier to believe with a goal on the horizon.

 

“ _I'll become a ghost. The best mercenary ever, better than any SeeD. Only doing what_ I _want.”_

 

“I'm tired of thinking about the Bitch Witch, Cid,” said Seifer, slashing his gunblade impatiently. “Are we gonna fight or what?”

 

Cid blinked at him, but then put on his glasses and raised his blade, a glint from his mid-thirties hardening in his eyes in such a way that Seifer felt a thrill of challenge. And that was the last they spoke on the matter for quite some time.

 

/\

 

Seifer filled his days with too many things on purpose so he could fall asleep very quickly at night. Though it had been a long time since his last nightmare, he was not interested in having another. Ultimecia's veiled words haunted him, making him twitch at shadows if he wasn't concentrating on something else, and in the velvety wash of the darkness right before sleep, he sometimes thought he heard the rustle of overlarge wings. If he wasn't tired enough, just that noise made Seifer startle awake and then grumble as he cursed the vagaries of his imagination. Because it _was_ his imagination. It had to be. Ultimecia was not with him any longer, no matter what she said.

 

“ _But if it's my imagination, does that mean a part of me still wants her around?”_

 

Everything waking and reasonable about Seifer's existence said NO but sometimes he dreamed and did not have nightmares. Sometimes he had very strange dreams that were seductive in their seeming perfection, when Ultimecia was a combination of goddess and mother who worked on remaking creation while Seifer burned the world down and rebuilt it from the ashes. In those dreams, the sweet fire of his mad strength burned in his veins and eased every nagging doubt while simultaneously bringing up the best and worst of what he knew he could be. Exhilaration glazed those dreams, making Seifer wake up reaching for a future that was as intoxicating as the pull of alcohol and every sort of terrible drug combined. Some part of him still wanted to be a king when he knew he didn't deserve anything but a fugitive's fate. It fucking sucked though day-to-day Seifer couldn't say why.

 

But reality didn't suck all the way. Seifer went to sleep in uncertainty but woke up usually facing his desk and the Elbaite Bible spine-first towards him so he could always see the familiar red cross. And bookmarking the ancient pages was a piece of folded paper that was a hard reminder of the single happiest thing that had happened to him since losing his mind. Seifer always looked at the sketch of him and Quistis in the morning to recenter himself with his goals. He wanted more mornings like that one, where everything had been relaxed and sweet and even the idea of unhappiness seemed like a bad dream. Five more weeks. He could make it. He  _would_ make it to Deling City one way or another, and he'd figure out other stuff later. Before. Whatever.

 

Conscious of certain skills he might need when he left, Seifer spent more time in the galley, made sure he knew how to sail just as well as any White SeeD who'd grown up on the water, and started dying his hair dark again to escape further notice. The last thing made Edea worry—she thought it indicated a morbid turn to his thoughts—but Seifer just laughed. Before all this, he'd dyed his hair once for a mission and the memory of sitting in that tiny narrow safe room with Quistis carefully painting his eyebrows black (he never forgot about those these days, nor his eyelashes) made him smile. His favorite part about that mission had been Quistis in that cute little maid uniform, especially the way she'd unconsciously sat with her knees outside his to get close enough to color his brows and how that had made the fitted skirt ride up almost high enough to expose the tops of her stockings...

 

How could she be so sexy and so completely unaware of it at all times? Seifer was not sure he'd met anyone so genuinely oblivious to their own sex appeal, but then again it didn't seem like Quistis had really thought of herself as a sexual person up until they'd started doing things. Her somewhat academic approach to everything, including her porn (was she still doing that? Too bad the White SeeD Ship didn't have reliable Net signal), made Seifer think that even her approach to sexuality had probably been one of releasing stress for optimal function, not cutting loose and having fun. Who was he kidding,  _Instructor_ Quistis Trepe the Prodigal SeeD was not one for fun. But the Quistis he knew... Oh, she was fun indeed. Hee hee hee.

 

“ _I miss sex,”_ would cross Seifer's mind nearly every day, sometimes at completely inappropriate or random moments. Seriously, the wind blowing the right way might brush his mind to that direction. From the time he'd been fourteen years old, Seifer had not gone longer than three months without kissing someone or fooling around, and after coming back from Galbadia sans virginity, he'd wreaked a certain amount of havoc in Balamb Garden's female population. After Time Compression, he'd had six months of nothing but there hadn't been much of a desire between guilt, memories of Ultimecia being creepy, and a secret conviction that he didn't deserve to feel anything good after fucking up so badly. But being with Quistis had broken the dam and knowing that he was going to see her again made Seifer start to think of all the things he wanted to do when they met once more. He was pulling out all the stops. He was going to sweep her off her feet. And then he was going to give it to her until neither of them could walk anymore, because having sex with no physical barrier in the way was _amazing._ Without getting too schmoopy about it, it was the way men and women were supposed to be together. 

 

(It also made Seifer realize that while he'd really enjoyed being with Rinoa, part of that was due to her being on birth control pills and they'd been able to connect in that way too. So perhaps it hadn't been an awesome connection giving way to awesome sex, but rather a mere increase in sensation. Huh. That made Seifer vaguely disappointed, but it wasn't like he was going to fuck Rinoa again for comparison. Seifer was not that kind of dick.)

 

Quistis was also just tall enough that Seifer didn't have to hold back for fear of stabbing her in the cervix, which had happened enough times that part of his reputation for 'thorough care' had come from making sure he wasn't going to cause injury by accident. Rinoa's sharp yelp of pain still made Seifer flush with guilt if he thought about it, but Quistis had made no such noises. It was like they'd been made to fit together, and thank Hyne that the sheer physical delight of fucking in the prison hadn't been due to madness or drugs. Now Seifer knew that Quistis had been crying so loud and begging for his touch to take him off-guard, but now he wondered just how much it would take to reduce her to that state for real... Beestung lips parted and wet with kisses, her skin flushed and gleaming with sexy exertion, long golden hair spread over sheets she was clawing and raking as she looked up at him with those beautiful, long-lashed blue eyes...

 

Seifer realized he was getting too into things when he nearly fell down the stairs, then nearly went overboard, and finally didn't move fast enough to avoid literally tripping over small children in the hallway, which was of course Seifer's fault because he was the “adult” and should have seen them coming. After that incident, Seifer sulked back to his room and locked the door. Stupid kids getting in the way of some good imagination. Most days Seifer didn't mind the children (he even liked a few) but other times their mere existence induced a sort of rage. He'd never knocked an adult over when he'd been that little and there was a special kind of horror when Seifer realized that one child had almost slammed facefirst into his crotch, which made him shudder for multiple reasons. He could just imagine the infirmary intake:  _“Seifer had something hard in his pocket and it poked me in the eye!”_

 

Oh, it was going to be NICE to be on his own. He couldn't wait. Now if he just didn't pass out from some sort of exhaustion first, everything was going to be great.

 

/\/\/\

 

The mission Seifer is remembering comes from 'New Seed', specifically Chapter 34. In this universe (if you are just jumping in), Seifer passed his exam and went on exactly one mission before getting yanked to become Ultimecia's knight. The dark hair disguise was part of said mission, as was Quistis's maid uniform.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	11. Sidestory

There was not a lot of good information on sorceresses. Between their rarity in the human population, their generally secretive nature, and the fact that two crazy ones in as many decades had scared the living shit out of people, most information that Rinoa found about sorceresses was myth and hype. It was terrifying when Rinoa thought about it, but she barely had time to between being the Timberi Liaison to Galbadia and the Galbadian Ambassador to Esthar. She went to sleep exhausted more often than not, but it didn't leave her time to worry and that was a blessing. Still, seven months after Time Compression had ended, Rinoa knew she couldn't ignore her new powers any more.

 

The breaking point was when Rinoa was in her office all but pulling her hair out as she looked over _three_ separate secession proposals from various factions in Timber. Rinoa believed with all her heart that Timber needed to be independent, but Galbadia was not willing to give up the buffer territory between the main heart of the country and Esthar without sanctions that basically reduced it to a slave state. It was a carryover from Vinzer Deling's administration that Rinoa could not get her father, Interim President Fury Caraway, to get rid of, but she did at least get him to swear in writing that he would not make any changes either. This meant she had time to work with Timberi leaders to figure out something everyone could live with. In theory, that was great. In practice it was _terrible,_ because now that Rinoa was part of the Galbadian Government, at least half of her resistance friends seemed to think she'd turned traitor and refused to work with her. Zone wasn't talking to her anymore and even Watts was awkward once they found out that Rinoa was actually Rinoa Heartilly- _Caraway,_ as in the infamous spymaster of Galbadia. He'd probably had something to do with their fathers' arrests, which was why Rinoa had never told them her last name to start. During their last fight, Zone had even accused Rinoa of 'helping' Timber just for this position, which was when she'd slapped him and run away with tears in her eyes. Watts had wrung his hands and didn't know who needed more comforting.

 

Basically it was beyond stressful. Rinoa cried more than once. The only things that seemed to keep Rinoa sane were playing with Angelo and calling Squall at the end of every day, since she could barely get away from either Timber or Deling City and Squall was often running between Balamb Garden and Esthar. They didn't always get hold of each other and normally that just made Rinoa sad, but the day of the three secession proposals, Rinoa couldn't get hold of Squall and burst into tears... Which rapidly swelled to the size of gallon jugs and then splashed all over her lap and the floor.

 

Rinoa panicked. Who wouldn't? But that just made the things worse since she started crying harder and the tears started falling faster and getting even bigger. Desperately Rinoa jammed the heels of her hands into her eyes and gritted her teeth to the point of pain, making her throat lock until it felt like it was breaking. After what seemed like an eternity, the urge to cry and the fluttering, scattered fear settled down, and Rinoa dropped her hands with a shaky sigh. When she looked down at the carpet, it was soaked with saltwater. Shit.

 

Fortunately she was in her in-home office, so Rinoa got some towels and soaked up the tear-water, then tossed everything in the laundry for the servants to take care of. And because she was now just _done_ with everything, Rinoa went to her bathroom, locked the door, put on some sad music, and then cried literal buckets of tears in the bathtub, overwhelmed by stress and fear.

 

“ _People are gonna find out what I am. They're gonna hunt me down and kill me. Dad... Dad, what would he do? Would he help me? Would he try to lock me away too? I should have let myself be sealed in Esthar! What if I go wrong? What if I hurt people?_

 

But she didn't _have_ to hurt people. Edea hadn't. Rinoa swallowed hard and thought of Edea, her lips trembling with desperate hope. She'd seen the woman once after Time Compression at a party that Selphie had put on to celebrate everyone getting out alive. Frankly, Edea had scared her and it wasn't just because her face brought up bad memories. Edea was powerful in a way that Rinoa could not accurately describe, though Rinoa knew just by looking that Edea was not conventionally strong. And when Edea had looked at her, Rinoa had felt a jolt like being punched in the heart.

 

“ _Hello little sister,”_ her amber gaze had seemed to say. That was all. But Rinoa had gotten scared and run away, terrified of confronting a power she'd never wanted. Eventually she had come back to the party and found out that Cid and Edea had left early, both citing age and fatigue. 

 

“ _I should have talked to her,”_ Rinoa thought miserably. _“I should have learned from her! But now she's gone somewhere... Somewhere on the White SeeD Ship... They could be anywhere in the entire world! I lost my chance because I was too afraid to accept that I'm not who I used to be... That I_ could _go wrong like Adel and Ultimecia, and that my friends would have to kill me..._ ”

 

That just made Rinoa cry more, but exhaustion made the tears shrink to normal size and then dry up. After sitting in wet clothes for a few more minutes, Rinoa stripped and took a hot shower, which helped her organize her thoughts a bit better.

 

“ _Okay, the White SeeD Ship... That's a start. I really want to talk to Edea... No, I need to. I need to learn how to control myself, otherwise I'll out myself in no time flat or turn evil without meaning to. In the meantime, I'm going to get away from work for a while because the last thing I need is to go haywire when there are people around. Balamb... I'll go stay with Squall for a while. It'll be good. And maybe he knows something about the White SeeD Ship that I don't. Maybe he even has a way to get in touch with Edea.”_

 

It was a long shot, but better than nothing and more importantly, could not be put off. Rinoa spent the next day tendering her regrets and then packing a bag, steadfastly ignoring the phone and her cell ringing off the hook. Around lunchtime her father came home from the Presidential Residence; he worked there, but he ate and slept at home to make it clear to the public that he was an interim president only. And he found Rinoa stuffing clothes into a bag.

 

“Interesting timing,” was all he said, leaning in her doorway.

 

“Yeah, well, we all can't work 14 hour days,” said Rinoa, unconsciously slipping back into antagonistic habits. She didn't want to talk to him. General Fury Caraway had made his name in the First Sorceress War as a warrior and spymaster and Rinoa knew very well how he'd come up with the plan to assassinate Edea before she'd been a real threat. How would he react to her? Rinoa's hands started to shake and her stomach began to roil with nausea. A lifetime of hearing her father express his hatred for sorceresses—sometimes loudly, sometimes in passing snide comments—made her tense up every time she was around him these days. It wasn't fair. They were just starting to get along for the first time in ages.

 

“Visiting Squall?”

 

“Mm-hmm.” She looked over her shoulder. “You can't really stop me, you know.”

 

“I wasn't planning to,” said Caraway, making Rinoa stare. “Squall's a steady sort... Not like your previous boyfriend.”

 

“Oh, Dad,” sighed Rinoa, rolling her eyes. He was never gonna let her forget she'd dated Seifer once, was he? “Why are you bringing him up now? Thinking about upping the bounty again?”

 

“Please,” he scoffed. “The government isn't made of money. And you're rather sensitive where Seifer Almasy is concerned. Do you still care about him?”

 

“Yeah, in the 'I don't want him to die' kind of way,” Rinoa retorted, putting her hands on her hips. “I saw Seifer at the end, Dad. He wasn't right. He was unstable, he was running scared... I don't even think he knew where he was.”

 

Caraway looked away, his expression darkening. He had met Seifer only two or three times during the month he and Rinoa had been dating, but his impressions of the boy had all been fair. For all that people nowadays vilified Seifer's arrogance and rudeness, Caraway's first memory of Seifer Almasy was of the boy introducing himself and shaking Caraway's hand without any qualms, fear, or shiftiness. Contrast that with Squall, who basically had to be pushed into saying hello to Caraway in his own house.

 

“Nevertheless, we can't let him get away with everything,” said Caraway, internally bracing for a fight.

 

“So you're charging him for things that weren't even his fault?” Rinoa retorted, sighing inside. She didn't want to fight her old man, but the pattern was too old and well-set.

 

“While Seifer Almasy was the Commander-in-Chief under Edea, he was responsible for every crime committed by the army during that time.”

 

“He was under freaking mind control! What's everyone else's excuse?” Rinoa picked up her bag, her insides tight with upset. “Everyone's all about personal responsibility until it comes to making the military responsible for itself. Ugh.”

 

Caraway sighed. Rinoa wasn't exactly wrong. He got out of the doorway as she approached and gave her a quick hug, saying, “Have a good vacation. Relax. I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Dad,” said Rinoa, annoyed but still genuine. They'd taken to ending every conversation that way since the end of Time Compression, painfully reminded how easy it would be for them to never see each other again. She hugged him back and took a deep breath of his cologne and military starch, reminding herself that Caraway always did what he thought best. Too bad they hardly ever agreed on what that was.

 

“ _I wonder if he and Mom ever fought this much...”_

 

The normal train from Deling City to Balamb took a day and a half, but there was also an express that made the same trip in 12 hours, and since Rinoa wanted to be with Squall as soon as possible, she sprang for the extra expensive ticket and was on her way. She was not so mad to run that she didn't call Squall ahead of time and tell him she was coming. He was surprised and pleased, but told her that he still needed to work.

 

“I know,” she told him on the phone. “I'm not expecting YOU to take a week off just because I'm around. But I need to get away and I want to spend a whole week falling asleep and waking up next to you, okay?”

 

“Okay,” said Squall, sounding very pleased indeed. They so rarely had time to really be around each other these days. The last time they'd physically been around each other had been a month ago, which made Rinoa sad but also get the gears turning in regards to sexy things. Squall was _adorably_ naïve about sex, whereas Rinoa was a good bit more experienced and adventurous, and she tried to seriously blow his mind at least once per occasion they were together. If he didn't have a slightly dazed smile on his face at some point in time, she considered it a personal failure.

 

Squall picked her up from the train station and the ride back to the Garden took about thirty minutes longer than it should have when they ended up pulling off to the side of the road and making out in the car. Only pressing matters kept them from going further, which was why after Rinoa set her things down, she went in search of her other friends for some good clean amusement. She would get Squall later.

 

Zell was teaching when Rinoa sought him out, so she watched him instruct the older students until he got a break. Zell's natural excitement translated to real enthusiasm when it came to showing people how to get better, though Rinoa could tell that some of the students thought he was a bit much. Still, they all snapped to when Zell started demonstrating some of the more advanced chi techniques, including one that made water surge out of his fist in a geyser that was almost thirty feet tall. Rinoa nearly fell over in shock, but the wheels started to turn almost instantly.

 

“ _I know I'll have to talk to Edea... But maybe there are some supplemental techniques that can help me out too...”_

 

She talked to Zell after class, who cocked his head in confusion but agreed that anything was better than nothing, and the more training, the better.

 

“I realized after fighting Fujin that I just didn't know enough,” said Zell, his mouth twisting at the memory of the slimmer woman trapping his blows over and over again. “So I'm learning my brains out and you might as well too. If you wake up around 6 tomorrow, we can do some meditation together.”

 

“Meditation?”

 

Zell nodded. “Practically everybody in the Garden does it. With all the crap we do, we _need_ sitting-still time. Some people do it at night, some people in the evening...”

 

“ _I don't think I've ever seen Squall meditate,”_ Rinoa realized. She started to wonder if he did. In any case, she agreed to meet Zell at his room for meditation and something called 'mastering her chakras', which Zell swore would give her greater body awareness and maybe a better handle on her powers since they were part of her body too. 

 

She wiled away the rest of the day by giving Angelo some much-needed playtime and cuddles, then picked up new books in the library to speed through for the rest of the week. Being back in Balamb Garden was soothing. It reminded Rinoa of that idyllic time when the Garden had first become mobile and they'd been drifting without any destination, while she did her best to keep active and distract Quistis and Squall from their problems. Funny how the tables had turned. Afternoon turned to evening and Rinoa went to go pick up Squall for dinner. To her surprise, he was napping at his desk, leaning slightly back in his chair with his head tilted to one side. It was such an unguarded, adorable pose that Rinoa just stood and smiled at him for a while even as she sighed internally at his lack of energy.

 

“Babe,” she called softly, making Squall take a deep breath. “It's 7. You wanna get dinner or just go to sleep?”

 

“Mmm wai'ing fur a cuh...” Squall ran his tongue over his lips and sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, Rin. Waiting on a call from Laguna. Shouldn't take long.”

 

Rinoa's mouth twisted as she thought. “It's like 1am in Esthar,” she exclaimed as she did the math. “You're seriously going to be on a call with him  _now?”_

 

“We're still hashing out the distribution deal on the tech he promised us,” Squall said, picking up his mug and frowning at it; it was empty. Squall disapproved of coffee, but his tea was usually strong enough to be more than a match for the darkest brews, a double standard that never failed to make Rinoa snicker. “Everything I point at is something he swears can be militarized. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was doing it on purpose.”

 

“Aww, even the little vacuum? That was so cute!”

 

“People aren't going to pay for a vacuum,” said Squall. “I mean, they're not going to pay enough for Esthar to make a decent enough profit, so Laguna won't sign.”

 

“What's decent?”

 

“Enough to build a new manufacturing facility, for one thing,” said Squall, rubbing his neck. Rinoa came around the desk and squeezed his shoulders, making him sigh. As he gratefully put his hand on hers, he said, “The Lunar Cry destroyed most of their industry, so there's not many goods they can readily sell that they don't already need.”

 

“What about rare monster parts? I bet they have a bunch of those.”

 

“SeeD already collects those,” said Squall, leaning into Rinoa's touch. Rinoa smiled; talking about someone else's problems was weirdly soothing, and she did love any opportunity she could lay hands on her boyfriend. Even if his muscles were rock-hard with inactivity and stress. She started to get a bit of a bad idea.

 

“Odine technology?” She suggested lightly.

 

“Lack of manufacturing facilities.”

 

“What about clothing?”

 

“...You think there's a market for Estharian clothing?” Squall asked, thinking of the long, shapeless robes that everyone in Esthar seemed fond of wearing.

 

“Well, maybe not the _finished_ items of clothing, but did you see the fabric?” Rinoa started to massage Squall's scalp, which was _much_ more relaxing. Squall almost groaned aloud as she started rubbing his temples. “Laguna gave me an Estharian dress a while ago and it came with this _beautiful_ shawl that's fine enough to float like silk, but it's way warmer _and_ it wicks away sweat like no one's business.”

 

“Makes sense,” said Squall, unconsciously sliding down in his chair as his eyes fluttered closed. “Esthar's hot.”

 

“My point is, if he's sitting on a stash of those, he can sell them through you for a profit,” said Rinoa, smiling slowly as she saw Squall starting to fall asleep again. For a man so used to physical labor, mental labor was what really exhausted him, particularly when he was forced to communicate quickly without a specific end goal.

 

“I'll just swan around in mine for a while and create a demand,” said Rinoa as Squall yawned. “People have been asking me for weeks where I got mine.”

 

“Have I seen it?”

 

“Yes,” said Rinoa, kissing Squall on the forehead and making him hum happily. “It's blue, has silver edging... Oh, we went to the Nocturne that one night and I used it as a wrap?”

 

“If you say so,” said Squall. The only thing he remembered from that date was fooling around with Rinoa behind the privacy of a closed curtain booth, though it hadn't gotten past heavy petting.

 

Squall heard Rinoa laugh softly. “Are you sure you have to take this call? Because I was really looking forward to...relaxing with you.”

 

“...It's late,” said Squall even as heat bloomed in his cheeks. Rinoa was a garden of sensory delights and he loved it, but Squall had no idea what he was doing most of the time. The first time they'd been making out for real after Time Compression, Rinoa had actually burst out laughing and told him that she felt like he was licking a lollipop. One of Squall's recurring nightmares was Rinoa getting bored with him and running off to have threesomes with Quistis and Seifer, which seemed like a near possibility with the blond ex-SeeD suddenly reappearing on the scene.

 

“I promise you'll sleep like a baby,” said Rinoa, turning Squall's chair around and sliding into his lap. A shiver went over Squall's skin as she wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “Come on... Just take the call another time. Or call him first and say—”

 

They both looked as his computer began to beep softly. As a gesture of goodwill for destroying Adel and as the chosen broker of (as yet undetermined) Estharian technology, Laguna had gifted Balamb Garden with some of the most advanced communication tech on the planet. The sleek brushed steel laptop was fully capable of conferencing with Esthar no matter where the Garden was, which was very handy and at the same time somewhat annoying since that meant there was no real break from talking to Laguna. He seemed to call about once a week, which Squall normally did not mind.

 

“Sorry,” said Squall, looking guiltily at Rinoa.

 

“Oh well,” she sighed, sliding off his lap. Reaching out, she tapped the keys on the computer that would bring up the call window and said, “I'll think of something.”

 

And then she ducked onto the floor a split second before the call window opened up and showed Laguna's tired face.

 

“Morning,” said Laguna, suppressing a yawn. “Or... Night?”

 

“It's evening here,” said Squall, keeping his focus on the screen. Rinoa was creeping under his desk and Squall was not _so_ naive that he didn't realize what she was up to. He swallowed hard and to cover his lapse, picked up his empty mug and clasped both hands around it. “I had a thought.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Rinoa really likes that fabric you gave her,” said Squall, keeping his voice perfectly modulated as he felt light, clever hands around his belts. _Holy shit._ “Do you have more?”

 

“Uhhh... I think?” Laguna frowned. “Why?”

 

“She's been raving about how a-amazing it is,” Squall said, stammering slightly as he felt Rinoa rub her hands up and down his thighs. Though he knew Laguna could only see Squall from the chest up, the brunet SeeD nevertheless scooted just a little closer to his desk to make sure nothing improper could be seen. “Excellent temperature control, fine make... People keep asking her about it. She thinks it could be a big seller.”

 

“Hmmm...” said Laguna, scratching his cheek.

 

Squall just nodded, hoping he didn't look too guilty or...whatever. To cover the subtle sound of Rinoa unzipping his fly, he said, “I'll admit, it's not what we were thinking about, but the markup on women's clothing is ridiculous.”

 

“It is?”

 

“Trust me,” said Squall, thinking of the few times he'd gone shopping with Rinoa; she had wanted to see him in something other than black, and while he'd left the shopping arcade with three sets of pants and four non-black shirts, Rinoa had used the same amount of money to buy exactly two dresses that Squall instinctively knew were made of inferior material. But Rinoa told him that was normal for women's clothes.

 

“A lot of manufacturers stored their raw materials in New Esthar since the space was there,” mused Laguna, making Squall nod as Rinoa hooked her hands in his waistband and pulled down. _Fuck._ Squall put both elbows on his desk and braced so he could lift his hips without appearing to move his upper body, and he tried not to jump as Rinoa pulled his pants down just far enough for access. Meanwhile Laguna asked, “Are we thinking about plain fabric or embellished, like what I gave Rinoa?”

 

“Rinoa said she'd be happy to drive up the demand by wearing what you gave her,” said Squall, gripping his mug more tightly as cool air ghosted over parts of him that were normally not exposed. He felt Rinoa's hot breath on his hips and pretended to drink from his mug to cover his hard gulp.

 

“I'll see what I have...” said Laguna, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. He was dressed casually today in a seafoam green shirt and khakis, though Estharian embroidery around the neckline of his shirt prevented him from looking too unofficial. “I think we could make more on embellished stuff, but honestly, the base fabric is probably better than anything on the Galbadian continent. What are your measurements?”

 

“Huh?” Squall had no idea what Laguna was talking about. And that was entirely because Rinoa was now doing things under the table that commanded nearly all of Squall's attention; grasping him with both hands, she was licking the tip of his dick as she squeezed in gentle rhythm. _He needed to get off this call._

 

“Shoulders, waist, back...” Laguna gestured vaguely. “Measurements for a suit. As long as we're pushing clothing, I'm thinking we should make a uniform befitting a SeeD Commander, but in Estharian fabric. And some more casual stuff too, of course.”

 

“Uhh... It would have... Pants, right?” said Squall, making Laguna laugh. “Long robes aren't practical for my job.”

 

“I know,” said Laguna. “Look, just have somebody send me over your suit measurements and I'll come up with something good. Consider it a birthday gift. One of many to come.”

 

“Oh...” Squall turned red. Some of that was due to however he felt when Laguna acted like a dad, but a lot of it had to do with Rinoa starting to suck on him now. Waves of sensation radiated out from the wet warmth of her clever mouth, making Squall breathe a little faster. “T-thanks.”

 

“You're welcome,” said Laguna, smiling. “But... I'll be honest. I have no idea what you're actually into. What do you do for fun, Squall?”

 

“Uhh...” _He would like to screw his girlfriend. That would be fun._

 

“Seriously? No hobbies?”

 

“What about you?” Squall fired back just as he felt Rinoa cleverly flex her hands, making the most incredible ripple go over him.

 

“I read,” said Laguna, sounding very proud of himself. “And I still write.”

 

“What?”

 

“I've got a President's Journal on the Esthar Net. Sort of these little informal State of the Union addresses. I try to update it every month or so. People really like it! Been doing it for years.”

 

“Uh-huh...” Squall pretended to take another drink of tea again. _He needed to get off the call. What was a good reason to get off the call?_ _It was too hard to think with Rinoa swirling her tongue around his head like she was, and now she was starting to stroke..._

 

Laguna kept looking at him expectantly. Squall had no idea what to say.

 

“I mean...” Squall said awkwardly. “Good for you?”

 

Laguna started laughing, slapping his knee. “Raine did that too,” he said, wiping his eyes. Squall winced. Great, now he was talking to his father about his dead mother while his girlfriend was _oh god whatever she was doing, it was amazing. He never wanted her to stop._

 

“Do... Do you want me to read them?” Squall asked, confused on multiple levels. It was getting really hard to keep still and calm as Rinoa started to suck harder.

 

“Nah, nah, it's a lot about obscure Esthar politics,” said Laguna, shaking his head. “But... I can send you my book.”

 

“You wrote a book,” said Squall before he could stop himself. Rinoa started increasing the strength of her attentions, making him wonder if she was annoyed with him and telling him to _end the call. End it now, damn it. Or she would make him give the game away._

 

“Yep.” Now Laguna was grinning. “Bestseller.”

 

“...Okay.” Squall pretended to yawn. “I'm sorry, Laguna. I... I haven't eaten all day. And you have to be tired too, so...”

 

“Nah, I've got a few more hours before bedtime,” said Laguna, waving him off with a tired smile. “Don't work too hard, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Say hi to Rinoa for me.”

 

Squall could literally feel the blood draining from his face. There was no human way that Laguna could know what was happening, but for a moment of intense, blinding panic, Squall thought he knew. HE KNEW.

 

“Say hi to Sis,” Squall managed to reply.

 

Laguna beamed and abruptly his face disappeared from the screen. Instantly Squall slapped the laptop closed and set his heels on the floor, pushing back in his rolling chair so Rinoa could come out from under the desk. The sight of her kneeling between his legs, her lips closed around his shaft, was almost too much. Squall groaned aloud as she started to bob her head up and down, still squeezing with one hand around the base. Unconsciously he started moving his hips, wanting more of what she was doing, and put his hands on her head.

 

Rinoa immediately smacked his hands away, shooting him a warning look. Squall immediately raised his hands, blushing; he had no idea what he'd done wrong, but he hoped it wasn't too bad since she didn't stop. Needing something to grab onto, Squall found himself clutching the front of his jacket as Rinoa started to suck harder and faster, now making little humming noises that were threatening to break his calm. He couldn't look away. Every second that he could see what she was doing, the pleasure just rose until it shot into critical mass and Squall came fast, gasping and shuddering before he could say anything. He saw Rinoa jerk in surprise, her eyes going wide.

 

“Sorry,” he panted as he slowly settled back down.

 

She drew back and wiped her hand over her mouth. Squall didn't miss how she discreetly cupped her hand at the same time, but he didn't care that she didn't want to swallow; it was out of him and not his business anymore.

 

“It's okay,” Rinoa told him, a little breathless and smiling. “A little warning next time goes a long way, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Squall let his head thud back onto his chair. “Now I really wanna go to sleep.”

 

Rinoa laughed, utterly delighted, as she got to her feet and pulled a tissue off his desk. She looked at him fondly as she wiped off her hands, and Squall couldn't meet her gaze without blushing. He wasn't used to being regarded with so much affection. He liked it... But it still weirded him out sometimes. Squall looked down at the floor and was peripherally aware of Rinoa chucking the tissue in the trash, chuckling quietly.

 

“Oh, you're so cute!” She exclaimed suddenly, throwing herself on him and hugging him hard. Squall froze instinctively—quick motion was usually dangerous motion—but relaxed as Rinoa said, “Let's get something to eat. And then...” He shivered as Rinoa nibbled on his earlobe. “You can return the favor, okay?”

 

“O-okay...” Squall swallowed hard. “I'll do my best.”

 

“You always do,” said Rinoa with so much love and fondness that Squall's nervous heart swelled with gratitude. “And then... Maybe... You wanna try the real thing?”

 

Squall looked awkwardly off to the side. He could feel Rinoa's hopeful look cooling the longer he didn't say anything, because he didn't know what to say.

 

“Squall... You think I'm pretty, right?”

 

“Of course I do!” He said, stunned she would ever think otherwise. When he looked at her in shock, he winced at the hurt look in her eyes. “I... I just...”

 

“Do you want to see me naked?” Rinoa asked without a trace of a blush, making Squall feel even more awkward.

 

“Y-yes, but...”

 

She huffed. “But what? It's been seven months and I _know_ you'd like to go further... And I'm ready... So?”

 

Squall sighed heavily. He put his hands over his face. It was easier to talk when he wasn't looking at her, though the level of embarrassment in his body skyrocketed anyway. “I know you're ready. But... I'm not.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“I'm just not!”

 

Squall hadn't meant to yell. Nevertheless he heard Rinoa's startled little gasp and felt like running away. He knew it had to be weird to her that he hadn't pushed harder in their entire time together, but...

 

“ _But everything right now is fine. It's nice. Why do we have to rush? I want to make it perfect. Like she deserves. I don't want to be so bad at it that she leaves me...”_

 

She probably thought he was a freak. Or selfish. Squall half-expected to hear her walking out the door. He wouldn't blame her.

 

Instead he felt her hugging him, resting her forehead against his temple until he dropped his hands from his eyes. He'd pressed hard enough that they were red even though he'd managed not to cry from shame.

 

“It's okay,” she said sweetly, which just drove the dagger further. “I'm sorry. I don't want to make you feel like I'm pushing you, okay? I know we only get to see each other that much, but there's no pressure to do anything you don't want to do, okay?”

 

“I'm sor—”

 

“Don't. Apologize. For being uncomfortable.” Rinoa kissed him on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispered.

 

“I love you too,” he whispered back, feeling the shame come roaring back.

 

“Let's eat,” she said, squeezing him a little. “We'll feel better after. Do you want me to stay in my own room tonight?”

 

“...no,” he said, feeling small and stupid. “I like it when you're nearby.”

 

“I like when you're nearby too. _”_ Rinoa kissed him on the cheek again. “No rush.”

 

“ _No rush,”_ Rinoa repeated to herself firmly, savagely kicking the part of her ego that thought Squall's reluctance reflected on her. Squall loved her. He wanted her. He thought she was beautiful. But it had been clear from the start that Squall was immature in a lot of ways, and their relationship had forced Rinoa to reassess her assumption that a man's biological need for sex would override all other concerns. It just wasn't like that with Squall. He _thought_ so hard. He was in his head so much. He'd need a gentle touch, which was honestly a bit of a foreign concept to Rinoa. But Squall was worth it in her book. He was at his core sweeter than any man she'd ever known and she loved seeing him become less shy every time they were together. He didn't hold back from her if she only asked the right question.

 

After dinner they watched a movie and went to bed, and safe in the circle of Squall's arms with Angelo sleeping on her legs, Rinoa finally let herself be the weakest she'd been since the end of Time Compression.

 

“Squall... I think my sorceress powers are getting out of control.”

 

“Why do you say that?” He asked, his voice heavy with sleep but calm.

 

“The other day I cried and flooded my office.”

 

Squall pulled her close with a noise of concern, burying his face in her hair. “Don't cry,” he said, his voice filled with sympathy.

 

“That's not the important part,” she said, but the memory of that uncontrolled incident upset her all over and tears started welling up in her eyes again. “Oh no!”

 

“Don't cry,” Squall repeated softly. He moved down a bit as Rinoa felt the tears swelling on her face, but he kissed her eyelids without reservation and she felt the terrifying amounts of liquid shrink down to near-nothing. “I'm here. Always.”

 

“Squall, this is serious. I don't know what I'm going to do!” Rinoa curled into his chest, trying to settle the fear. He smelled a little like leather and something spicier that seemed to prick her emotions into overdrive. “I don't want to be found out! I need to talk to Edea, but I don't know where she is!”

 

“She's on the White SeeD Ship,” said Squall, making a flare of helpless frustration rock Rinoa's chest until he said, “They're in FH right now.”

 

“What?” Rinoa gasped, stunned.

 

“The team for FH's security called them in,” said Squall, rolling out of bed and going to his workstation. As he turned on his computer and began typing, he said, “They asked me if they needed to worry about the Ship since they hadn't seen it before. Once they described it, I told them not to worry and see if they needed anything. I'll tell them to either hold the Ship or see if they'll come to us.”

 

Rinoa sat up in bed, staring. It was that simple? That easy?

 

“Worse comes to worst, I'll send a team out to track it down,” said Squall, yawning. He sounded like he was talking about the weather, and as he came back to bed, he tripped over a shoe and nearly fell over. With a grumble he kicked the shoe off to the side and crept back into bed, slightly cool from being out but otherwise like nothing had happened. “We'll find Edea, Rin. It's gonna be okay.”

 

Rinoa looked down at Squall in disbelief. He was so incredibly cavalier about something that could kill her...destroy her life...ruin many others...

 

“Why are you so calm?” She whispered, not sure if she was comforted or scared by his acceptance.

 

“One of us has to be,” said Squall, his eyes closed as he curled onto his side. He was lying on his left, making Rinoa see the silver glint of his huge sorcery-induced scar on the front and back of his right shoulder. The sight of it sent a shudder of fear through her and Rinoa dragged up the blankets to hide it from sight. She hated that that months of being familiar with Squall's body weren't enough to reduce the automatic revulsion she had for the mark.

 

“ _I would_ never _do that to Squall. Never.”_

 

“I love you,” Rinoa whispered as she bedded back down next to him.

 

“Love you,” he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. The warm brush of his lips felt like a blessing for the future, and for the first time she didn't remember how long, Rinoa fell asleep feeling something other than totally, utterly drained.

 

“ _It's going to be okay. With Squall... I'm going to be okay.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I'm pretty sure Squall is a virgin nerd. Neeerd.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	12. Chapter 12

One month after Dollet, the White SeeD Ship dropped Seifer and Raijin off at Fisherman's Horizon. Though the formerly hippie-ish town was starting to modernize thanks to Esthar reopening the borders, it was still rustic enough that there were no surveillance cameras around. Furthermore, as a famous isolationist extraterritorality, if Seifer was arrested, FH could not be compelled to give him up to anyone. This immunity was not strictly on paper. Pacificists though they were, the citizens of FH nevertheless agreed to provide free servicing to all Garden structures in exchange for a standing combined force of Balamb, Trabian, and Galbadian SeeDs to protect their autonomy, thus washing their own hands of violence and protecting their borders at the same time. Of course, everybody hoped it wouldn't come down to such a confrontation.

 

“EMAILS,” said Fujin to Raijin and Seifer, who nodded; she had made them promise to write her no less than once a month, with a two-week wiggle-window in either direction.

 

“Be safe,” said Edea, giving them both firm hugs.

 

“Believe in yourselves,” said Cid, shaking both their hands and then giving them hugs too. Raijin sniffled and wiped his eyes, but Seifer just nodded tersely. He was practically vibrating with the need to run. The last pieces of Hyperion had been reforged into a pair of long knives that he had strapped to his sides and he'd not only grown out his hair and facial hair again, but also dyed it black to escape further notice. One of the White SeeDs had given him a stage makeup kit in preparation for his escape and Seifer had practiced covering up his scar every day to the point where no one could tell he had one unless they were looking hard. Between the physical disguise and the power of Edea's bracelets, Seifer was confident he could run anywhere in plain sight.

 

“Bye, Seifer,” said Orizon, clapping him on the back. “Be good. And if you ever give us up, I'll kill you.”

 

“That's fair,” said Seifer, waving at the little children who had come out to see him go. No few of them were envious; some of the littlest ones thought he had found a forever home and was going off with his new folks. Seifer smiled at their naivete but didn't tell them otherwise.

 

So Seifer and Raijin left. Raijin immediately started talking about part-time jobs and finding a place to stay, but Seifer was already thinking of where else to go, and both of them were so occupied that neither of them noticed a brunet teenager with a beanie pulled low over his head and a furtive-looking girl wearing a wide-brimmed hat pass by them to go to the White SeeD Ship. Seifer in particular was deep in his head. FH was nice, but it was like the White SeeD Ship; there was nothing to do around here and nothing to learn.

 

“ _Still, there's nothing wrong with getting your feet wet after seven months out of the world... No reason to jump in all the way yet. That's how you got fucked in the first place, isn't it?”_

 

A hundred gil bought them a week in a youth hostel and while Raijin seemed perfectly happy to hunker down and look through the classified for jobs, Seifer meanwhile prowled the bars, the train station, and the streets at night looking for real work. Freelancing was not easy. There were actually two kinds of freelancers. The International Combat Specialist Organization,shorthand ICSO, had thousands of loosely regulated guilds and were sometimes called the 'bonded'. And there were the unbonded, true independent operators, and Seifer planned to be in this group. No oversight meant no chance he could be detected. Unfortunately this also mean there was no easy access to work or even knowing where work might be found, and after four days of wandering around, Seifer managed to make a single contract.

 

He had stopped in the strip club mostly because it had started pouring buckets and even though his weatherproof was keeping him dry, it was still depressing to trudge around in the rain without any idea of what he was looking for. The dim red-toned lighting in the strip club was similar enough to the tens of other bars Seifer had visited that nothing seemed off as he shook off his wet coat and then went to get a drink. There was a pale-skinned woman with shock-blonde hair in a very tight, colorful shirt manning the liquor when Seifer took a seat.

 

“Hey,” he called, making her turn to look at him. Light flashed off her pierced nipples and nearly made Seifer fall off his barstool in shock.

 

“What do you want?” She asked, cleaning a glass.

 

“Uhhh... Ale... Or beer...” Was she really topless? Seifer tried to rally, but he was not _so_ experienced that it wasn't a surprise to see breasts in the first place. The bartender laughed.

 

“How old are you?” She asked him with a grin. Her face was similar enough to Fujin's that Seifer felt instant kinship and also incredible discomfort; it felt like seeing his sister naked.

 

“18,” said Seifer, keeping his gaze on her face. She had one of those hammered silver name necklaces glittering on her collarbone instead of a nametag and apparently went by “Nylon”.

 

“Hah! Well, at least you're better than the last few teens. Two of them ran out all but screaming and the other three just _stared._ You said ale, right?” She handed him a can. “Nothing on tap, sorry.”

 

“This is fine,” he told her, opening the can and looking around. Now that he was actually paying attention, there were very scantily-dressed women everywhere he looked. It was still a dive bar and nasty by definition, but at least the girls seemed to gleam with promise and none of them were bad on the eyes.

 

“So what are you in town for?” asked Nylon the bartender when Seifer showed no signs of moving.

 

“Just wanna see the world,” said Seifer. Now that he wasn't dazzled by breasts, he took a closer look at the bartender's tattoos. He had only the one on his low back but he'd always thought of getting more. “I like your ink. Where'd you get those done?”

 

Nylon gave him the name of a parlor with a well-practiced rattle; it was probably the top conversation starter with her. Remembering how annoyed Quistis had been when he'd asked her 'why the whip' oh so long ago, Seifer made an effort to be more interesting and didn't ask about Nylon's history—she probably got that every night—but rather if the tattoo parlor's prices were reasonable and who she'd gone with. The look in her eyes told him that she knew exactly what he was doing, but it was a slow enough night that she indulged his run-of-the-mill curiosity and kept giving him drinks, since he had enough money for that. Seifer made sure not to get too tipsy, but at the same time talking helped him come up with a persona.

 

“Anyway, after my folks carked it, I had to strike off on my own,” he said. “And hunting monsters is good and all, but I figured I might try something with a slightly higher profit margin, if you know what I mean.”

 

Nylon nodded with perfect understanding but not fear, which was interesting. She turned when she heard the door open and sighed, saying, “Be back in a second.”

 

“Take your time,” said Seifer and watched a stunningly pretty woman probably younger than he was spin and slide around the pole on stage. As he tried to figure out how she looked like she was gripping the pole with just her buttcheeks, Nylon came back with an annoyed look on her face.

 

“What happened to you?” Seifer asked as he saw her start to mix up a drink a little more irritably than was reasonable.

 

She gave him a look like she wasn't sure what to make of him, but after a second of internal struggle she huffed and then leaned over to talk to him.

 

“A while ago one of the girls got into some trouble with a patron,” said Nylon, eyes flashing. “He says they're dating and he gets super pissed if she tries to hide from him. I swear he comes here every night just to make sure she didn't skip town. So don't bother the girl who's working right now, got it? _She's_ the one who has to deal with him.”

 

“Sounds difficult,” said Seifer, his blood lifting at the possible opportunity. He thought he'd kept his voice even but Nylon looked at him suspiciously for a long moment and didn't say anything. She went and gave the drink she'd been making to a man at the other end of the bar, late thirties with a look in his eyes that made Seifer's lip curl with disgust. Honestly he reminded Seifer of some of the really creepy students Cid had 'encouraged' Seifer to 'dissuade from pursuing a career in SeeD'.

 

“ _Looks a bit too old to respond to some broken fingers and threats in the middle of the night, though...”_

 

Seifer kept an eye on the guy and an eye on the dancer, who instantly tensed up as soon as she saw the man at the bar. It wasn't incredibly obvious but her movements became tighter and smaller, and when she was done with her set, the other strippers in the club took turns staying with her so she was never alone for more than a couple seconds. What was even more interesting to Seifer was that the bouncer was staring at the creepy guy with a frustrated look, but clearly wasn't able to do anything to him since all he was doing was sitting and drinking.

 

“Is he here every night?” Seifer asked Nylon when she came back to check on him.

 

“Just about,” said Nylon in a flat voice, making no move to disguise her distaste. “I swear he follows her. When she's not here, she go-go dances at another bar I work at and he's there too. Ugh. I hate him. He freaks her out so bad that it's cutting into her earnings _a lot._ ”

 

Seifer just sipped his ale and looked at her meaningfully.

 

“No,” she told him firmly, but thirty minutes later she was back, saying, “So in theory... What would it cost?”

 

SeeD had an itemized pricing structure that every student was forced to memorize, because even though the Garden took care of the bills, there was always a chance that someone would try to undercut them in the field. Seifer named the price for a simple murder, which included body and evidence disposal, and Nylon's eyes went round.

 

“You can take up a collection if you like,” said Seifer evenly. Whether he was in hiding or not, he was a fucking SeeD and he'd make SeeD price or else. However, he was starting out alone and didn't have a name, so he impulsively added, “I can do a group price on bulk orders. She can't be the only one with _problems.”_

 

“What are you, Captain Save-a-Hoe?” Nylon practically sneered, but her eyes were considering. Seifer finished off his beer, watching as she chewed her lip. “...Wait here.”

 

So Seifer waited as Nylon walked off. A few minutes later he was approached by the girl with the amazing booty grip he'd noticed earlier, though her smile seemed overbright.

 

“You look lonely,” she said in a slightly forced tone that made Seifer look at her more closely. “Private room, mister?”

 

Seifer glanced around. From the other end of the bar, the creeper with the burning eyes was glaring daggers at him. Ah-hah.

 

“Sure,” said Seifer, levering himself off the bar stool. A thrum of excitement that nothing to do with being in a private room with a pretty girl went through his blood, even as she coyly took his hand and led him off to one of the curtained areas. Nylon followed after them, apparently as a chaperone to make sure nothing untoward happened.

 

As soon as they were shut in (but not locked in; Seifer was initially surprised until he began thinking about how easy it'd be to strangle someone in a room and not have anyone notice), the look of artful seduction on the stripper's face fell off and she turned into someone Seifer might have gone to school with, all but shaking from attentions she didn't know how to handle. Unconsciously Seifer adopted his 'head of DC' posture, which was folding his arms and leaning against the wall, looking at her slightly out of the side of his eyes and not getting between her and the door.

 

“I don't really want him dead...” she started slowly, even as real, palpable fear rolled over her just at the thought of the man. “I just want him to leave me alone.”

 

Seifer shrugged. Instructor Baldos always said civilians would try to appear respectable for as long as they could. It wasn't a problem most of the time. “That's more expensive.”

 

“What?” She stared. “Why?”

 

“Because that's continued service,” said Seifer, making her eyes widen with understanding. “Look, the price guarantees he'll never bother you again and no one will make the connection. So?”

 

“Well...” She bit her lip, which was adorable and seductive even in her distress. “I don't really have that much money...”

 

“Money's useless if you're dead,” said Seifer, making her look away. He'd guessed right; somehow the prick had made her fear for her life.

 

“...what about a discount?” She asked, her fingers creeping up to her bikini top.

 

“Nope,” said Seifer. “I've got bills to pay too.”

 

She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “Okay... So how do I pay you?”

 

Seifer had to think about that for a second. Most of his classes had had to do with combat or history and for the life of him he couldn't think of how he'd actually get the fucking money. Hoisted on his own petard!

 

“Cash,” he said, since cash could not be traced. But cash was also noticeable and there needed to be barriers between him and the client for both of their safeties. “Your bartender friend is gonna take a shine to me and take me to her favorite tattoo parlor tomorrow at 6. Deal?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Seifer tried not to roll his eyes. “Give the money to Nylon. Nylon gives the money to me.”

 

“Oh, okay.” The stripper flushed. “Sorry... I'm just...scared.”

 

“Being scared is fine,” said Seifer, remembering what he'd used to say as the head of the DC. “It means you're paying attention. And now you've brought it to mine. So relax and have a nice rest of the day, this'll be done quick.”

 

“T-tonight?” She asked, looking at him with big eyes. Seifer hesitated. He knew he shouldn't give timelines, any details really, but the bartender's hissed warning _SHE'S the one who has to deal with him_ made Seifer dig his fingertips into his elbow a little. The noble knight in him wasn't all the way dead yet.

 

“You'll never see his face again,” Seifer assured her. Sensibility kicked his ass—the money should be in his hand first—but really, it felt like dealing with a Garden dispute again.

 

She nodded, still looking uncertain, but also hopeful. “I can give you an advance tonight—”

 

“All or nothing tomorrow by 6pm,” said Seifer, not willing to take the chance that she'd try to buy him off with an insultingly small amount of money.

 

“Okay...” She swallowed hard. “Uh... Sit down.”

 

Seifer looked at the couch along the back of the private room and then back at the stripper.

 

“Well you have to look a _little_ messed up,” she told him, sounding just a tad annoyed.

 

“Oh. Yeah, alright.” So Seifer sat down. He half-hoped the stripper would give him a lap dance, but instead she looked him up and down with a considering look, professionally disarrayed his clothes, and then smooched him on both cheeks. She was wearing some sort of glittery, sticky lipgloss that Seifer instantly wanted off his face, though it did smell nice.

 

“Why is it burning?” Seifer asked, instantly suspicious. He wondered if there were obvious marks; her lips seemed rather too red.

 

“Because it's a plumping lipgloss. No, don't wipe it off!” The stripper got a hard glint in her eye. “I want him to look at you and _know_ you got something he can't throw enough money at me for.”

 

“You've danced for him before?” Seifer asked as a point of interest but instantly she flared, her eyes burning.

 

“That doesn't mean he gets to do what he likes! He bought a dance, not _me!”_

 

Seifer held up his hands before she could either start shouting or burst into tears. “I just wanted to know how he got fixated.”

 

She sighed, her breath quavering. “Hyne only knows. I wasn't anything other than normal-nice, you know. Because you have to be. But then... He followed me home. I keep moving... And then I can't sell dances in front of him because he gets _so_ _mad_ and then follows me again...”

 

_Creepy. As. **Fuck.**_ “You know, it's a little unprofessional,” said Seifer to her. “But I'm  _really_ gonna enjoy this.”

 

He actually did. Seifer waited out the entire night and then when the target left, stalked him like a deer in the woods. It was 3am in the dive bar district and there were lots of people around, but not the sort who'd actually give a shit about what happened to others. Seifer fingered his long knives but then opted for a little more drama, because why not—he wasn't planning on staying in FH anyway. Speeding up, Seifer gathered his fire lore in the palm of his right hand and concentrated on building it up as much as humanly possible without actually letting it out...

 

...until he tapped the man in the middle of the back. Instantly the man staggered but Seifer kept walking. Still, he couldn't help but look over his shoulder as the man fell over, his boiling blood making his skin burst like an overcooked sausage right before he exploded into scarlet flames on the ground. Two bums who were nearby screamed in horror, but by the time a third bum even turned around, there was nothing of the man but white ash, rapidly turning to white mud and then nothing in the pouring rain. Seifer stared, almost stopping.

 

“ _Holy shit, I_ exploded _somebody. I just thought his blood would boil, but no...”_

 

Disturbingly, it had been very easy. And just as disturbing or perhaps even more so, the feeling of accomplishment seemed almost insanely good, intoxicating with the headiness of success. Seifer swallowed hard.

 

“ _I'm not going to give in. The fire lore is mine, literally the only good thing that came out of_ that time. _I'm not going to be afraid of it. I'm going to use it. I'm always armed, there's no weapon to trace, and all evidence gets burned up. I'll make it my signature. Yeah... Nothing crazy about that. Nothing at all. It's all very reasonable...”_

 

...and very, very easy. Seifer did his best not to be worried about that, nor pay attention to the errant thought that his fire lore had always been strongest when he'd been most out of his mind.

 

By 6pm the next day, Seifer had two more contracts, was several thousand gil richer and also admiring a celebratory tattoo of the SeeD symbol surrounded by flames on his right shoulder. A band of more stylized fire, red and Phoenix-colored, went behind the crest and circled his arm. Raijin noticed immediately.

 

“Looks expensive,” said Raijin when he saw it for the first time. Raijin was still looking through the classifieds and getting way too excited about possibly washing dishes, but Seifer tried not to judge him. At heart, Raijin was a gentle soul and just because he _had_ killed before didn't mean he liked it. Personally Seifer thought Raijin would make an excellent pediatrician. 

 

“It cost a bit,” said Seifer, stretching out along his bed. “Hey, Raij... I'm serious about making a name for myself.”

 

“I know,” said Raijin, setting down his paper. “And I'm all for it, ya know? But it's just not what I wanna do with myself.”

 

“I know, but...” Seifer squirmed a bit. “I'm gonna leave FH. I'm gonna travel.” _“I'm gonna leave you.”_

 

“Okay.” Raijin picked up his paper again.

 

“...that's it?” Seifer demanded, half-sitting up. “After weeks of bitching, that's _it?_ ”

 

“Man, you don't change your mind, I don't change my mind.” Raijin set down his paper again, his eyes dark and serious. “You weren't the only one going crazy on that Ship, ya know.”

 

Raijin had wanted to leave too? “Then why were you such a pain in the ass about me going off on my own?” Seifer snapped, eyes flashing.

 

“Because I _still_ don't think you should be on your own,” said Raijin, miniature lightning sparking in his eyes. “But you're gonna do what you're gonna do, aren't ya?” When Seifer nodded slowly, Raijin picked up his paper and lay down on his bed, saying, “Just remember to write.”

 

Seifer stared at his friend a while longer before sitting up. “Hey, Raijin...”

 

“What?”

 

“...thanks for sticking with me. And being my friend.” Seifer laced his hands together, feeling awkward. Deep appreciation for Raijin's existence took a backseat to how humbled Seifer felt from the darkskinned man's support. Despite the fact that Seifer knew for a fact that he was straight as an arrow, there was a surge of affection for Raijin in his chest that was just as strong as any romantic love Seifer had ever felt.

 

“You know... Raijin...”

 

“What?”

 

“If...” Seifer's grip tightened as he gazed down at the floor. “If I were... Um...”

 

Raijin lifted his head and looked at him weirdly. “What?”

 

“You know... If I were gay... Then... I'd... Uh...”

 

“ _Oh holy Hyne, what if he takes it as an invitation? Why the hell am I even talking?”_

 

Raijin's eyes went wide for a second before he started snickering. As Seifer stared at him, his face slowly turning red, the darkskinned teen turned the page on his paper and looked back at the classifieds. “Seifer, shut up,” he said, sounding purely amused. “I haven't felt like that in years. Get the fuck over yourself.”

 

Mortified, Seifer threw his pillow at Raijin's head, making him yell and then throw his own pillow back. Five minutes later the hostel director came to tell them to take their fight outside and found Raijin jamming in the ends of a blanket burrito with a Seifer filling, only his kicking feet visible. It felt exactly like being back in the dorms, though when the hostel director threatened to kick them out, he probably did mean it.

 

“ _Ahh, who cares if he does?”_ thought Seifer that night as he drifted off to sleep with a smile. _“I'm earning money now. I'm out in the world. Just you wait, Quistis, I'm gonna be well on my way to making my name when I see you again.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I see no reason to have a whorephobic world if I can help it. Sadly I cannot take credit for 'Captain Save-a-Hoe', that was a phrase I picked up from Stripperina's tumblr site, which is a great resource for anybody looking into sex worker rights and the pitfalls of current legislation.

 

Hands-down favorite part of this chapter is Raijin telling Seifer to get over himself and then stuffing him into a blanket cocoon. In my world, the posse is always keeping each other humble in a variety of stupid ways.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	13. Chapter 13

“Sorcery responds to emotion,” said Edea to Rinoa. The two of them were sitting on the deck of the White SeeD Ship, protected by something called a 'paling' that Squall couldn't see, but showed up for both women as a web of shifting white light. It made the deck look completely empty unless someone was in a White SeeD uniform, which was very useful for a variety of reasons. “The seed of every spell we cast, every action we take, comes from emotion. And by channeling emotion in careful ways, you can achieve a wide variety of effects.”

 

“What do you mean by channeling emotion?” Rinoa asked, frowning.

 

Edea smiled slightly. “Prior to becoming a diplomat, you were an activist and resistance leader, yes?” When Rinoa nodded, she said, “Was that not a focused use of righteous anger?”

 

“So I just need to have a goal?” Rinoa asked skeptically, and when Edea nodded, Rinoa exclaimed, “It can't be that easy!”

 

“But it is,” said Edea, her eyes darkening somewhat. “For a sorceress, it is usually enough to simply... Want. And so it appears. This is why many sorceresses tend toward evil purposes, because when there are few limits and fewer boundaries, it becomes very difficult to believe that any way other than yours is the right way.” As Rinoa shivered, Edea smiled and touched her on the shoulder, saying, “It is rather fortunate that you came into your powers now, when you already have a strong sense of right and wrong. Many sorceresses receive their powers as children, usually from dying relatives. Such was my case; I was five and the sorceress in question was my great-aunt. The rest of my family watched me very carefully for years to make sure I wouldn't go to the bad, but if a sorceress doesn't have that sort of support, well...”

 

“Why didn't she pick one of your older relatives to pass her powers onto?” Squall asked; he was leaning on the railing of the Ship while the women sat on the deck in folding chairs.

 

“Not every woman is a sorceress candidate,” said Edea. “In my family, I was the only one. Had I not been born, she would have had to pass on her strength to someone not of our blood. And that can occasionally be complicated.”

 

“So back to controlling my stuff,” said Rinoa, making Edea smile at her. “Would things like meditation and mindfulness help?”

 

“Immensely,” said Edea with a nod. “Do you already practice?”

 

“Well, not exactly, but Zell offered to help me out.”

 

Edea smiled. “Perfect. The practice that martial artists do to channel chi techniques are very similar to learning discipline for sorcery.” As Rinoa heaved in relief, Edea added, “But what will help you the most is your grimoire.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“It's a history of your lineage of power,” said Edea, making Rinoa and Squall stare at her in confusion. “Sorceresses track their powers through lines of power, not blood. Everyone manifests theirs differently. It's not a physical object like you might think, it's rather... Oh dear, what was the phrasing Cid used...? A visual representation of instinctive knowledge.”

 

And Edea showed Rinoa a book she had  _not_ been holding a second ago. Rinoa stared at the black leatherbound journal, which seemed the size and weight of a paving-stone, with a shiver of foreboding. 

 

“This is mine,” said Edea. “But it exists only for me. If I try to give it to you...”

 

She held the book out to Rinoa, who reached out hesitantly. She expected a nasty shock or something unpleasant, but to her surprise her hand went through the solid object. Squall was even more perplexed, because as far as he could see, Rinoa was swiping the empty air between Edea's hands.

 

“Yours will look different,” said Edea as the book disappeared from her hands in earnest. “But every sorceress accesses theirs in the same way. What sort of spell would you like to cast?”

 

“Uhhh...” Rinoa stared. “We're... We're just gonna jump right into that?”

 

“Wanting to deliberately cast a spell that you do not know is the easiest way to summon your grimoire,” said Edea. As Rinoa flushed in understand, Edea added, “And we can't stay in port for long, so we must practice hard while we can. I know you are afraid, but rest assured, I will not hurt you and I will not let you hurt anyone.”

 

'Not let'? Squall wondered for the first time just how powerful of a sorceress Edea really was. Ultimecia had been ruthless, terrifying, powerful enough to compress time and space into a single moment, and Edea had held her back for ten years all alone. He suppressed a shiver, not wanting to let his sudden apprehension reach either Edea or Rinoa. Especially Rinoa. She was so fragile about being a sorceress.

 

Rinoa bit her lip. She had used her powers before to protect Squall and teleport her friends, so she knew she could do those things. But other than that?

 

“ _I don't really want to cast spells... I don't want to be a sorceress...”_

 

Edea reached out and laid her hand on Rinoa's knee, making her jump. When she looked at the older woman, Edea's amber eyes were dark.

 

“ _You already are,”_ Edea said quietly, her voice seeming to echo in Rinoa's head. But unlike Ultimecia's cruel, pain-edged touch, Edea's voice seemed like a breeze. Nevertheless Rinoa recoiled, clutching her head, and Squall sat up by the rail, eyes flashing. Edea glanced at Squall and then at Rinoa, or more specifically at the rings on her necklace. 

 

“Rinoa, dear,” said Edea in a light voice. “How would you like to be able to cast a spell to be able to know how Squall is doing at all times? Not _what,_ since that is too intrusive, but rather if he is in good health or unhappy?”

 

Rinoa blinked and then looked at Squall, who just shrugged back. “I don't mind,” he said. The corner of his mouth quirked as he said, “As long as I get the same thing for you.”

 

“Umm...” Rinoa unconsciously clutched at her rings, her eyes darkening. “If it's okay with you, Edea... I'd like to try some healing.”

 

“Of course,” said Edea, nodding. “What sort of healing?”

 

“Healing a scar,” said Rinoa, and yelped as a book thudded into her lap. Like Edea's grimoire, this one was also bound in black leather but instead of being perfectly square, it was thick and somewhat longer, looking like an illuminated manuscript from ancient times. Rinoa leapt to her feet with a small scream, making the book tumble to the floor. Edea watched it fall with interest, but Squall instantly surged off the railing and hugged Rinoa, spinning her away from the book. He still couldn't see what it was but he knew it was scaring Rinoa and that was enough for him.

 

“It's your own grimoire,” said Edea, looking at Rinoa shaking in Squall's arms. “It won't hurt you.”

 

“I-I-I know,” Rinoa stammered, swallowing hard. “I'm just scared.”

 

“What are you scared of?”

 

“...becoming evil.”

 

“The revulsion you feel is the best indicator that you will not behave in such ways,” said Edea, but Rinoa started shaking her head.

 

“When Ultimecia was in my head in the Garden, she showed me... Things. Me doing things to people.” Witchwater tears started falling to the deck, making Squall flinch in surprise. But he hugged onto Rinoa tightly and stroked her hair, refusing to let go even as his clothes became soaked. “I just... I can't _not_ be afraid.”

 

Edea looked at her with widening eyes, the amber of her irises starting to visibly glow. “My impression was that you had received your powers from Adel.”

 

“No,” said Squall, shaking his head. “Ultimecia possessed Rinoa on the space station. And before that, made her fall into a coma after the Battle of the Gardens. And Rinoa could use sorceress powers on the Ragnarok after we got stuck in space, way before we fought Adel.”

 

Edea stood up, her eyes starting to burn like candle flames. “Rinoa, allow me to _look_ at you.”

 

“Okay,” said Rinoa shakily, something in her responding to that particular inflection. Edea's eyes flared and for a second, all Rinoa saw was multiflecked amber whirling around her in a saffron-colored globe. It seemed to last both hours and mere moments before Rinoa blinked and found herself back on the deck of the White SeeD Ship, still in Squall's arms.

 

And Edea was looking at her with sadness.

 

“Rinoa, I must apologize,” said Edea softly. “After the Battle of the Gardens, I was so relieved to be free that I did not examine you as I should have. I did look at you, but I did not see Ultimecia hiding in your soul. You see, when she took _me_ over, she hid in my brain. I naively assumed that was where she would always rest.

 

“In any case, when she came to reside in your soul, there was just enough of a blending between your spirits that for a while, you borrowed _her_ lineage of power. Then you received Adel's strength, which is the bulk of what you are now.”

 

“So what does that mean?” Rinoa cried, starting to tremble. “I'm both Adel _and_ Ultimecia?”

 

“No, it means you can use powers from both of their lineages,” said Edea, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You are not going to become them simply because you have some measure of their strength.”

 

“But you got possessed!” Rinoa shot, her voice creeping into hysterics. “You got possessed by Ultimecia for _years!_ And you couldn't do anything about it! _”_

 

“Because I had a living, conscious sorceress in my mind,” said Edea patiently. “However, both Adel and Ultimecia are dead. So you are entirely your own.”

 

“Are you sure?” Rinoa clutched onto Squall, shaking as she cried, “You couldn't tell I was possessed the first time! How do you know? How do you know, Edea?”

 

“Because if anyone knows what it is like to lose your mind, slowly eaten up by powers beyond your control, it is _me,_ and believe me, I will _never_ let that happen to you,” said Edea, her eyes glowing brightly. Rinoa stared at her for a long time before the weight of Edea's logic finally managed to crack through the mounting fear, dulling it to trembling apprehension.

 

“Pick up your grimoire, Rinoa,” said Edea, her voice firm but not unkind. “And look up the scar-healing spell you want to find.”

 

It seemed physically impossible for Rinoa to unclench her fingers from Squall's clothing, but it was easier when she looked up and saw Squall looking down at her with nothing but love and acceptance. He kissed her on the forehead.

 

“I'll always be here,” he told her. “You'll never scare me, Rinoa.”

 

“ _Good,”_ thought Rinoa, kissing him on the lips. _“Because I'm not sure when I'll stop scaring myself. And one of us has to be calm, right?”_

 

Rinoa spent the rest of the evening working on sorcery. Her grimoire was extremely useful and Rinoa was suspicious that it seemed to have everything she needed to know spell-wise until Edea explained that it was Rinoa's power manifesting in a way that made sense to her. Rinoa looked up her scar-healing spell and tried it out on herself first, healing a puppy bite from Angelo on her ankle that had always annoyed her aesthetically. But when Rinoa offered to heal Squall's scars, he looked offended.

 

“Do they really bother you that much?” He asked, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders defensively.

 

“No,” said Rinoa, then bit her lip. “Just the one.”

 

“Which one?”

 

“The one on your shoulder. From...” She tried not to look at Edea, but the sideways flick of her eyes was all Squall needed to understand. He straightened slightly, his lips thinning.

 

“ _They're_ my _scars. I earned them. But that one...”_

 

Squall remembered Seifer's wine-dark eyes, blazing with madness, as the older man leaned over him, stabbing into the margins of the sorcery-inflicted wound. Unconsciously his heart rate ramped up as he heard an echo of a madness-tinged voice hissing, _“Aren't you glad I made you tough? Don't die on me now.”_

 

“ _He needs to answer for_ everything,” thought Squall, his grip tightening. At the same time, he could understand why Rinoa found it so intensely disturbing. He knew she wouldn't hurt him, but she obviously didn't have the same confidence in herself. 

 

“...It's important to me,” said Squall, looking at Rinoa. “But if you really...really...want to get rid of it... Then okay.”

 

Why was he so attached to that scar? When Rinoa looked at him questioningly, Squall sighed and said, “It reminds me of Seifer.”

 

“The one on your face doesn't?”

 

...Well, when she put it that way, Squall felt a little silly. He rubbed his injured shoulder, his gaze flicking to the side. It  _had_ been stiffer ever since the injury. It had added milliseconds to his reaction time. And it did hurt when he fought for longer than fifteen minutes at a stretch, which was starting to be a problem in his duels with Quistis.

 

So Squall took off his shirt and undershirt and watched as Rinoa came over and touched her hands to the silvery blotch on his right shoulder. He couldn't help but glance at Edea when the mark was revealed and saw her face tighten up. Instantly he felt a little bad for being so attached to a lump of scar tissue. Sure, the attack had nearly killed him, but he didn't have to look at the thing and be afraid of himself, whereas these two women...

 

Weird tingling numbness followed by a surge of warmth made Squall squirm a little and when Rinoa pulled her hands away, he looked at his shoulder and was surprised to see that it wasn't all the way normal. There was a thin gray line at the very outer limits of where the scar had been, almost perfectly circular and less than an eighth of an inch wide. Squall rolled his shoulder and felt a gratifying lack of stiffness, something he remembered from before everything had gone to hell. As he put his healed shoulder through its paces with and without his weapon, he asked Rinoa, “Why not the whole thing?”

 

“Because that scar is important to me too,” said Rinoa, still worried but looking at him with a small smile. “A little mark like that just on the skin... Well, it reminds me that I can make you better. That I can really protect you this time. And in the future.”

 

Squall stopped in the middle of his exercises, looking at her in surprise. “...protect me?”

 

Rinoa nodded, her lips thinning but her eyes bright. “Yes, Squall. And trust me, knowing that I can do that for you is just as important as knowing what to do with my powers.”

 

And then she all but tackled him to hug him hard, burying her face against his healed shoulder. Squall grunted a bit at the impact, but smoothed her hair and kissed her on the head.

 

“We'll take care of each other,” he said, feeling something in his chest swell happily at the idea.

 

“Always,” Rinoa promised, her voice filled with love.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: If I were a politically savvy sort, I would keep knowledge of Rinoa and Rinoa's powers to myself, which is why Laguna has that shit on lockdown in the Seed Universe. Doesn't it make much more sense to limit that knowledge if you can? Think about it, he and a few select Estharians are now the only ones who know Rinoa is running around with powers beyond belief, which makes for a powerful ally if they need one. Fortunately Laguna is a good-hearted sort.

 

I also get annoyed when Rinoa is left without support in fanfiction; I've never once encountered anything where she had anyone to turn to other than Squall, which is another reason why I've made Edea keep her powers in the Seed Universe. It allows for a benevolent sorceress figure and a mentor in a field that is largely unknown, which means I get a narrator into weird lore :D MUHAHAHA

  
/\/\/\/\/\


	14. Chapter 14

It was two weeks before Quistis was able to meet with Elder Makine and discuss blue mage history, with some of the delay due to Norg's possessiveness over every moment of her free time and most of it due to Makine simply being very old and easily tired. Apparently the Shumi had a very long lifespan with a correspondingly long decline, and the times when Quistis had gone to see if Makine was able to talk about a few things, he sometimes fell asleep in the middle of conversation. Mindful of his low reserves, Quistis made a list of questions in a blank sketchbook with plenty of space to take notes during their conference. She hoped it would be long. After months of nothing but folklore and superstitious babble in the Grand Library of Dollet, any concrete information about blue magic that wasn't directly gleaned from her own experience would be nice.

 

She also took the Blue Magic Tome. While the information inside mostly had to do with various Lunar Beasts, the hidden missive in the pages still bothered her, half because they implied something troubling about blue mages in general and half because her pulse still throbbed with recognition whenever she read the words. Maybe Makine knew something more... Or at least something to shake off the feeling of belonging to something terrifying, something she had no choice about.

 

Elder Makine's house was one of the largest in Shumi Village. Most of its light came from a massive fishtank that wrapped almost the entirety of the structure and had an impressive array of multicolored fish that Quistis vaguely remembered seeing in the shallow reefs around Balamb. Because he lived alone and almost entirely in his hover pod, there was very little furniture in the house, and most notably no chairs. Fortunately Quistis had a lot of practice when it came to standing for very long periods of time.

 

“Thank you again for letting me come and study in the Village,” said Quistis with a polite bow.

 

“You are welcome,” said Makine, who today was sipping a cup of something that smelled like liquefied smoke and pine needles. The pungency made Quistis wonder if it was medicinal. “Zama has spent a very long time in the human world and would be most qualified when it comes to recommending humans for instruction.”

 

“Are you always the one to teach the blue sages?”

 

“When they want to learn.”

 

Quistis frowned. “What do you mean?”

 

“Long ago I used to train blue sages much in the same way Norg did, and my own curriculum besides,” said Makine, his fingers tightening around his cup. It was a very big cup with a very small mouth, resembling the beautiful spherical vases that Xu had in her office. A thin stream of steam wafted up from the cup and wove hypnotically before Makine's face as his expression grew pensive with the past. And not entirely happy.

 

“When a blue sage comes to the Shumi for advanced instruction, this typically means they are lost,” said Makine, not looking Quistis in the eye. “They have been raised without their community and are searching for any information they can find. Frequently they are in some state of distress, having learned of the Prime Transfiguration through terrifying rumor first and then personally experiencing it with no preparation.”

 

Quistis nodded, not sure why Makine looked so uncomfortable. She wasn't going to get angry at him for stating the truth.

 

“Some blue sages come to the Shumi because they hope we can purge them of their abilities,” said Makine, and Quistis shifted uncomfortably in understanding. “When we tell them we cannot, the idea of going back into a hostile world sends them into despair. On the other end of the spectrum, we have blue sages who come to us because they believe they are superior to all other types of human and wish to become even more so by developing their strengths. That type of blue sage is often offended when we stress their human connection, rather than the one they have concocted on their own.”

 

“I think I know what you mean,” said Quistis, grimacing. “Most of what I found about blue magic in the Grand Library of Dollet had to do with superstition and myth, specifically 'moon people' who could command monsters and turn into them.”

 

“And while most of those accounts see 'moon people' as demons, there are exceptions, are there not?”

 

Quistis nodded, seeing the difficulty Makine must have had so many times over the years. “Yes. Some accounts think the 'moon people' are angels or fairies. Some sort of divine, at the very least.”

 

“When blue sages who believe these things come to us for instruction, they believe that our facts obstruct their greater destiny,” said Makine, shaking his head. “Hence why now we teach combat application and history separately. After the last incident, we could not afford to do otherwise.”

 

“May I ask what happened?”

 

“This,” said Makine, and it took Quistis a moment to understand Makine was talking about himself. As in why he couldn't walk. Mortification and secondhand shame nearly punched a hole through the bottom of Quistis's stomach.

 

“In that case, I am even more grateful you are willing to teach me now.”

 

“Zama assured me you are capable of understanding and accepting hard truths,” said Makine, making Quistis flush with personal embarrassment this time. Who knew Zama would find her response to being fired from the Instructorship worthy of anything? Let alone recommendation to classified instruction.

 

“So, you have no illusions about 'moon people' to dispel,” said Makine, making Quistis nod firmly. “Good. I will tell you what the Shumi know of blue magic, then, as it appears in humans.

 

“Zama told you the Story of Sharing, did he not? That in ages past, a Shumi named Scholar witnessed blue-skinned humans falling to Gaia with a Lunar Cry? The incident is in our historical record some 4000 years ago, during the height of the Centra Empire. What the blue-skinned humans said is also in our records, and those are the words I will tell you now.

 

“ 'We were born as Terra was dying. By the time we grew to adulthood, our planet was a husk and most of our life had been stopped to save the energy for those who remained. We are searching for a new home. But this one is not yet ready. Worry not. We do not need you.'”

 

Makine sipped then, shrugging a little. “If it seems peculiar and unclear, it is because the blue humans—or perhaps more accurately, the Terrans—learned only as much _lingua franca_ as they needed to get by, and they frequently spoke amongst themselves in their native tongue, falling silent whenever they noted Scholar's presence. The ones Scholar found were apparently four male and five female, though she gathered they originally numbered twelve. And what the story also does not say was that they were originally hostile. Scholar notes in her personal records that they attempted to attack her when she first came upon them, but were too frail to do so. However, the fact that both parties could use blue magic allowed for cordial common ground, which was why they permitted Scholar to attempt to heal them in the first place. Once the Terrans were healed, they left and went south.

 

“Approximately a hundred years later, Scholar began to hear of blue magic in human populations. One such mage was close by in what was later to become northern Esthar, and when Scholar made the journey, she found a secretive clan of humans whose oldest members had a distinct blue tone to their skin and subtly clawed fingertips very similar to the Terrans'. They were polite to her, but as secretive as their apparent ancestors had been. And she noticed that they spoke the Terran language when they thought she could not hear them.

 

“Scholar continued to travel and found many such blue mage enclaves throughout the world. Universally they were made of family groups, and as she ingratiated herself into their trust, she traced their lineages back to nine families, four of which had male ancestors and five of which had female. In this way, she concluded that her Terran patients had assimilated into their surroundings. Of note was that the clans were very successful when compared to other humans of the time, as they did not lose children at the same rate that Gaian humans did, and that their children also seemed serious, intelligent, and very disciplined.”

 

“Like little soldiers?” Quistis couldn't help but ask, her blood going cold at the words between Makine's phrases.

 

“Mm, perhaps. The Shumi have never had an army, so we do not know how little soldiers would behave.” Makine sipped his tea, his small black eyes focused intently on Quistis's face. “What troubles you? The usual parts of this history that disturb the other blue sages have fazed you not.”

 

“Oh... Well, it makes sense that they'd breed with the local populace.” Quistis rubbed her arms, saying, “But speaking from experience, a childhood of being bred to war is not much of childhood.”

 

“And you think those children were bred for war? Why?”

 

“Well, the original words of the Terrans seem to imply that they essentially want to take over the world, and the book I have says the same thing. It just makes me feel like I'm not learning about my ancestors, but rather getting a new set of orders. Ones I don't like.”

 

“And ones you do not have to obey,” said Makine, making Quistis nod. “Particularly since you have no blue mage or sage elders to tell you otherwise. But what is this book do you speak of?”

 

“This one,” said Quistis, taking the Tome out of her bag. Makine leaned forward, eyes glimmering with interest.

 

“Interesting,” he commented, cocking his head. “That appears to be made of Lunar Beast vellum.”

 

“Lunar Beast!” Quistis stared at the Tome in new shock. “I knew it was made of monster leather, but Lunar Beast... Are you sure?”

 

“Indeed. The hexagonal grain is very distinctive. Gaian beasts have more of a square or triangular grain. May I look inside?”

 

“Of course, but...” Quistis looked at Makine's massive cup, which he still held in both hands.

 

“Come alongside me,” said Makine, and Quistis sighed in relief.

 

She paged through the book at Makine's instruction, but they didn't talk much for that process. Mindful of Makine's energy levels, Quistis bit down hard on the questions that bubbled behind her lips: could he see the hidden script? Had he ever seen something like this before? How did he feel about blue mages and Terra now?

 

“Very, very interesting,” he said somewhere around the first third of the book. “A beautiful manuscript. The secret messages in the artwork are also intriguing, though I cannot clearly make them out. I assume you can?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Interesting. They appear to be supplemental descriptions of the Beasts on each page...” He glanced at her and then said, “Yet I do not think you would look so troubled by bestiary entries.”

 

Quistis sighed. “There's another message in this book. Basically... It tells the reader to terraform Gaia. Specifically, that Terra has to assimilate Gaia, and that's why the blue mages are here. That combined with what you said earlier...”

 

“Ah.”

 

“I know _I_ don't have to follow orders, but I'm not the only blue mage in the world. And I'm sure I'm not the only sage either, especially if blue sages raised... With families... Keep their abilities and their educations to themselves. I suppose I'm worried about potential trouble on the horizon.”

 

“What is the worst thing that could happen?”

 

A disbelieving laugh popped from her lips. “Ironically, what's already happened... A Lunar Cry has destroyed Esthar, or at least Esthar's surface. But even if blue sages _did_ take control of the Beasts that landed, there's nothing to destroy and they can't easily leave since the wall that used to keep Esthar hidden is now keeping everything inside. And assuming that a blue sage could assimilate a Lunar Beast skill, they still have to get into Esthar and that's not easy since Laguna doesn't want lots of dead treasure hunters on his hands. About the only ones allowed into Esthar these days are the Estharian military and SeeD, and I would know if there was another blue sage in SeeD.”

 

“Is there?”

 

“No. No one alive anyway. There are a few mages but they're still juniors in training.” Quistis chuckled again, now a little self-deprecatingly. “Now that I said all of that aloud, I feel a little silly. There's no master plan of blue mages taking over the world and even if there was, well... I have their playbook. And I'm not going to let them get away with it.”

 

Makine nodded, looking pleased. Then he closed his eyes for a very long, slow blink, and just when Quistis thought he was about to fall asleep, he instead said, “I am going to show you something that no other blue sage has seen before.”

 

“What?”

 

“You are the only blue sage who has not reacted adversely to the entire history. And Norg tells me that your personal discipline is also the highest out of everyone he has trained. So I think you are ready to see something very interesting. Something of Terra.”

 

Quistis stared. Makine drained his cup, set it into a holder in his hover pod, and silently drove off. Quistis slipped the Tome back into her bag and followed after him as he went deeper into his house.

 

Considering his lack of mobility, it was not surprising that Makine had an elevator in his house but since the Village was so far underground already, it seemed funny to Quistis that the elevator went even further down. The ride was not as long as the one from the surface to the Village but still seemed to take forever when timed in the nervous flutter of her pulse. Professionalism and training kept Quistis from fidgeting and she had to take deep breaths to keep her mind from spinning out of control. For whatever reason, her paranoid mind was completely convinced that the Terran object was a weapon. Why else would the Shumi keep it hidden? Why would they not allow any blue sages to see it until her?

 

“ _If it is a whip, I am going to scream.”_

 

The elevator doors opened to what looked like a natural cave. After the warmth and light of the Village and the cool humidity of Makine's house, the bubble of stone in the near-black Trabian bedrock felt like the devouring space between stars and unconsciously Quistis shivered. Makine moved out of the elevator first and turned in his hover, saying, “This is the object.”

 

Quistis swallowed and stepped forward, her hand tightening around the strap of her bag. As she walked into the cave, she half-stumbled on the rough-hewn floor and smelled stale though not deadly air. It was a peripheral observation. Her main focus was taken up with the object in the middle of the cave, which was definitely not a weapon and just as definitely not of Gaia, and that was even considering Shumi and Estharian design preferences. For starters, nobody built six-sided anything, let alone a... A...

 

“Scholar's record says that the Terrans left on three of these,” said Makine as Quistis walked slowly around the long, pointed craft. And it _was_ a craft, albeit a very small one that at most was meant to fit three people. It was about as long as a car and shaped like one of the spear-shaped fossil fish Quistis remembered seeing in the natural history museum in Dollet, if such a fossil had been made out of blue-green crystal with white veins and a reddish tinge at the pointed front end. The craft was obviously damaged. If it was meant to carry passengers, then the central cockpit had been crushed hard enough to make the rest of the craft fracture, though like safety glass it held its shape despite being nearly destroyed. At the rear of the craft and along the sides were small hexagonal ports covered in metal that gleamed like electrum and was apparently unblemished despite the fate suffered by the main craft.

 

“We attempted to repair it, but did not have the materials or the knowledge,” said Makine as Quistis made another slow circuit of the craft. Her head felt like it was going to explode with excitement that swung between awe and terror and the urge to scream was coming back too. Every single comment she could ever remember hearing in her life about blue mages being inhuman started shrieking through her head in a maelstrom that threatened to steal her breath, and a fit of hysterical giggling nearly came on her as Quistis realized that what she was looking at now would change the course of human history forever. Time Compression had been scary, sure, but in a hundred years it would basically be a bedtime story. What this craft implied, if it ever saw the light of day, would be devastating to the very large part of the human population that believed Gaia was alone in the universe. And more than that...

 

“Elder, why is this here?” Quistis looked at Makine, her brow knitting. “Even if it was broken, the Terrans would have taken it with them if they were as secretive as you say. Did they leave it behind on purpose?”

 

“It came ashore after the Terrans had already left.” Makine said, gesturing at the broken craft. “Scholar recognized it, though, and brought it to the Village of then. Much of Shumi technology was developed in an attempt to understand this very craft. However, we quickly discovered the reward of solving our own puzzles instead of other people's.”

 

“It _is_ a craft, then? A spacefaring one?”

 

“We believe it to be so. Do you want to see something even more interesting?”

 

“How could anything be even more interesting?” Quistis exclaimed.

 

“Look underneath it.”

 

Quistis did so. At once she saw what Makine had wanted her to see.

 

“It's _floating_ after all this time?”

 

“It is my belief that the Gardens use Terran technology, or at the very least Centran technology as inspired by Terra,” said Makine, steepling his hands. “Most of the clans that Scholar found were in Centra. It is not that far a leap to think that the original crafts were dismantled and their salient parts repurposed.”

 

“Yes, definitely. Especially since any ancient space-faring shuttles would make the news...” Quistis shook her head. “Or more likely the tabloids. This is so much to take in.”

 

“Indeed.”

 

“I can see why you'd keep this to yourself...”

 

“But?”

 

Quistis shrugged helplessly. “Things are different now. If nothing else, I can't help but wonder if someone in Esthar could make this thing fly again.”

 

“To what end?”

 

“Well, I'm sure there are lots of historians and anthropologists who'd be interested in Terra,” said Quistis, the thoughts solidifying as she spoke. “This would definitely change human history as we know it. Besides, there might be something left up there to help with Lunar Beasts and by extension, Esthar.”

 

“Is that truly why you want to see this craft repaired?” Makine asked shrewdly.

 

“I...” Quistis hugged herself, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yes. That is.”

 

“You do not wish to go to Terra yourself?”

 

Quistis shook her head, but something in her blood jumped at the very idea. It filled her chest like a flush of infatuation and the all-encompassing swell of immediate danger, making it hard to swallow and breathe.  
  
“Not at this moment,” Quistis said. It wasn't a lie, not really, even as something seemed to screech in her ears. “I don't know enough to contribute anything to such a trip. It would be purely selfish if I went right now.”

 

Makine looked at her for a rather long time and said nothing, but his eyes were slightly narrowed. Quistis had no idea what that meant. Was he disappointed? Confused? Suspicious, maybe, that she wasn't falling all over herself with a mad desire to go? Just when his silence was starting to raise her defensive hackles, Makine laced his hands together and let out a breath that made him sink into his pod.

 

“Very well, Quistis Trepe,” he said, his voice cool. “I believe this is enough for today. And forgive me, but I am rather exhausted. We will resume in two days' time.”

 

“Yes, Elder,” said Quistis, relieved and somewhat dismayed at the same time. She couldn't shake the sense that he was disappointed in her for some reason and while Quistis did not automatically crave approval, not getting it was still something of a shock. She told herself it was that and not a little voice telling herself that something weird was going on and Makine should not be trusted...

 

The foreboding went away once they went up the lift. Once outside in the artificial sunshine, Quistis's foreboding puffed away as she looked at the Shumi and their peaceful, perfect little village. They were so settled in and so happy. There was no nefarious conspiracy afoot here, and certainly nothing that involved her or her blue magic. She was just learning mysterious facts and strange history, that was all. Nothing scarier than that.

 

Yet that night Quistis dreamed of a red moon looking down on a blue world, and in her ear something (someone?) seemed to whisper, _“Child. Child. Come back home...”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: And now we reach the point that originally took me 200 pages into part 4 to get to. But I can't linger over every single detail if I want to get to the end of this saga before it goes completely out of my head.

 

/\/\/\/\

 


	15. Chapter 15

Raijin walked around the apartment, his eyes all but shining with awe and delight. It was not a very big apartment, but it was new and clean and it looked out onto the ocean—over the industrial docks, but still the ocean. With more traffic coming through FH, more development had come along too and the crappy, scrappy oil-industrial look of most of the buildings was being replaced by dwellings that were a combination of Galbadian comfort and Estharian proportions. Seifer leaned against the back wall with a smirk.

 

“Yeah?” He called.

 

“Yeah, man,” said Raijin, looking around and shaking his head. “Well... I dunno. It's kinda pricey.”

 

“Fuck price,” said Seifer, feeling a glow of pleasure as he said the words. Business wasn't booming if he counted the number of jobs, but it was getting pretty hard to hide the _massive stacks of cash_ that he was sitting on after just two weeks. It turned out that Seifer's estimation of lots of sex workers having 'problems' was truer than he'd thought and after no one had even reported the first three targets missing, Nylon had spread the word. And of course the strippers talked too. The Garden's insistence on hiring out only in teams was great for team security, but also set a price tag that most people could never afford. As a single operator, Seifer was able to make contracts that SeeD never would have picked up and his skills were such that he could command what he was worth, as well as say 'no' if he didn't like the job. That amount of freedom was something Seifer realized he'd never have been able to get in SeeD and that took the sting out of his stolen future a little.

 

Meanwhile Raijin was still scouring the classifieds for something to do. They put down more money to stay in the hostel another week, but Seifer was already looking for a different space: the hostel was small, not secure in the least, and the showers smelled vaguely of sewage. Seifer had started looking at apartments between jobs, which was why he and Raijin were now standing in this one, newly built in the last year.

 

“I _can't_ fuck price, man. I don't know if I can make rent, ya know?” said Raijin, sighing and looking around in great longing. “I mean, I like it. But I don't have a job yet and you're gonna be leaving, so I can't say 'Yeah, man! This one!' if I don't know what the incoming funds are, ya know?”

 

Seifer suppressed a sigh. He'd temporarily forgotten about Raijin's fretting. “Raij, do you wanna go to every interview smelling vaguely of shitwater and not being able to sleep on a bed that holds your head and your feet at the same time?”

 

“Well no, but—”

 

“Or worrying if your stuff is gonna get taken?”

 

“No, but—”

 

“Raijin, do you like the apartment?” Seifer asked, making Raijin glare at him.

 

“I do, but—”

 

“Then it's yours,” said Seifer, at last being able to say the words he'd been holding back this entire time. Raijin blinked at him, not comprehening what had just happened. Oh, this was gonna be fun.

 

“The fuck do you mean, it's _mine?”_ Raijin asked suspiciously.

 

“I mean, if you like it, I'm gonna put down a year's rent so you can actually concentrate on finding a job,” said Seifer, and burst out laughing as Raijin's jaw dropped.

 

“What the—fuck—how—what—” Raijin started to sputter, his dark-skinned face going mottled red. “No! NO, Seifer!” He actually charged up to Seifer, his skin glittering with miniature lightning. Seifer grinned, recognizing how excited Raijin actually was. “Fuck NO! It's too much and—”

 

“Living here gives you automatic free access to the local train lines in FH and to the new territories they're building off-shore,” said Seifer loudly as Raijin started ranting objections. “And if I put all the money down now, it locks the rent in at 1000 gil a month for the next THREE YEARS. It's a good deal, Raijin.”

 

“It's too much!” Raijin repeated, shaking his head so fast that the trails of lightning started to glow around his face, fuzzing out his features.

 

“How am I supposed to go off and make my name if I know you're living in a crackhouse apartment?” Seifer demanded, making Raijin's flush darken. “For fuck's sake, Raij, let me do this. I've got the funds. And I put you through hell, so just shut up and take the fucking apartment.”

 

“But I don't have a—”

 

“ **Yet** ,” said Seifer, making Raijin's eyes widen. “Look, Cid said 'believe in yourself', didn't he? Well I believe in you too. You're gonna be fine. And you're gonna be fine in your own place with a locking door, your own shower, and a bed you don't have to lie on diagonally. Okay?”

 

“Not okay,” Raijin said, though his voice cracked. “How...” He gestured around him, at the neat surfaces, the new appliances, the gleaming floors. “How am I ever gonna pay you back?”

 

“You're a dumbass,” said Seifer, making Raijin laugh wetly. “I'm the one who's paying _you_ back. Forever. Now let's get some furniture. You need a bed and I need a couch to sleep on before I go.”

 

“Fuj's gonna be jealous when she hears about this,” Raijin said, discreetly wiping his eyes.

 

“Well if she leaves the Ship, I'll buy her a place too,” Seifer shot back.

 

They moved in. And once moved, they adopted a strange schedule of Raijin going out to interview during the day while Seifer slept, then being awake at the same time from about 6-10pm before Raijin went to sleep and 'The Captain' went out to hunt. Seifer would have vastly preferred a different moniker, but Nylon still gave him tips and was way too fond of calling him that name. Every time Seifer got annoyed about it, she threatened to give out 1-800-Save-a-Hoe as his contact information, so he gave up. Some battles just weren't worth fighting.

 

Mindful of Raijin's growing anxiety about not finding a career, Seifer put half the money from his incoming jobs into an opaque jar that had the words 'Rainy Day' painted on it in wobbly child writing. Raijin just laughed at him when Seifer brought the thrift-store find back and set it in his bedroom, never anticipating that there was another year's rent in the thing. Seifer didn't enlighten him, though he did tell Fujin via email and sent her a picture of said jar. She sent back that it was the ugliest thing she had ever seen and that it was perfect. Fujin also said she was doing great on the Ship, and one evening Seifer and Raijin downloaded a little sound file she'd sent and sat in stunned silence as Fujin sang “You Are My Sunshine” in a soft, clear little voice that sounded the happiest they'd ever heard her.

 

Having the apartment had an unexpected side effect in Raijin interviewing for _everything,_ even things he seemed eminently unsuited for, but it paid off. After two weeks of increasingly frantic searching, Raijin found a job in an engineering firm with a nice signing bonus once they discovered just how much mastery he had over his thunder lore; being able to tell at a glance exactly what component was busted out of any machine was beyond valuable, and the fact that Raijin could not be injured by electrical accidents made him invaluable when it came to repairs. In exchange for basically throwing him into situations that would kill anybody else, the hiring parties promised to give him a solid background in practical engineering and that sent Raijin over the moon. He'd always liked fixing things and tinkering back in the Garden, but everyone had told him he was a bit too dumb and ham-fisted for bomb disposal and lockpicking, so this was a dream come true.

 

Seifer was very happy for Raijin, even though it seemed like the most boring job on earth. Still, Seifer went to congratulate him on his first day of work and had to admit Raijin's new workspace was pretty neat. Each prime engineer had their own lab which featured a variety of cool things and while he was wandering around looking for Raijin, Seifer saw people experimenting with lasers, black fluids that turned into spiky trees and other weird shapes, and even what looked like attempts to make jetpacks.

 

“They're trying to figure out how to make peoples' asses not catch on fire for that one,” said Raijin when he found Seifer watching the jetpack test with shining eyes. When Seifer turned to look at him, his face instantly split in a grin and Raijin's eyes flashed warningly. “Don't say it.”

 

“Neeerr—” Seifer clamped his lips shut as Raijin raised his hand, lightning crackling in his palm, dark face brushed with warning. But Raijin _did_ look like a big nerd in khakis and a button-up, even though both pulled tight over his muscular frame. “I'm gonna think it.”

 

Raijin dismissed the lightning and rolled his eyes, a smile coming back onto his face. Then he laughed aloud, running his hands over his chest and especially the ID lanyard that read “Nagi Den”. The new identity was a present from Seifer too; he was doing well enough to make sure his brother was really taken care of when he was gone.

 

“I'll show ya around,” said Raijin. “And then we'll eat. You figure out your timeline?”

 

Seifer nodded. Just a little over a week until October 4 th  , Deling City, and Quistis, but he couldn't be happy without reserve. Deling City was lousy with security cameras and Seifer had been trying to figure out how to remain undetected, spend time with Quistis, and _make sure she freaking recognized him in the first place_ since he couldn't go around as he had in Dollet, secure in the knowledge that the bracelets would keep him safe.

 

“ _If there was just a way to fuzz out my face on camera...”_ Seifer thought irritably, nevertheless making impressed noises as Raijin showed him some of the labs. He was more than half-spacing out when they came to one where a short, dark-skinned woman looked like she was trying to torture a piece of fabric.

 

“What's that?” Seifer asked as they watched her run electrical currents through the fabric. When Seifer glanced back at her monitors to see what she was looking for, he was surprised to see that the fabric appeared as nothing but a shining mass of white that completely blurred out everything around it. A prickle of anticipation went up his spine.

 

“Oh, she's trying to make invisible fabric,” said Raijin, making Seifer look at him sharply. “Apparently Esthar used to be behind this wall, right? And it was all camouflaged so you couldn't see shit. Anyway she's trying to do the same thing with cloth, but—” The men winced as the scientist screeched in frustrated rage, the cloth still maddeningly visible.

 

“Is there a lot of that cloth?” Seifer asked lightly.

 

“Maybe. I don't know,” said Raijin, looking at him suspiciously. “It doesn't work, man.”

 

“I know,” said Seifer innocently. But his brain was already whirring.

 

Seifer was not so much of a dick that he was going to use Raijin's keycard to break in after-hours, but he did plot entrances and exits and two days later, broke into the lab under heavier-than-usual disguise. His target was any amount of the fabric he could lay his hands on, but to disguise his true goals, Seifer randomly grabbed things from other labs, set some blank papers on fire for effect, and then on a whim wrote some anti-Estharian drivel on the walls to make it look like technophobes had gone apeshit in the place. The next day Raijin glared daggers at him, but since no one had been hurt, nothing valuable had been damaged, and most importantly nobody suspected Raijin, he kept his mouth shut. Still, Seifer bought him a bunch of cookies decorated with 'sorry I almost fucked your life up again' and left them on the counter with Raijin's name on them as he went to find someone who could sew.

 

As it turned out, Nylon knew how to sew. After some haggling and sketching between making drinks, she agreed to make Seifer an extremely particular sort of jacket and he handed over the fabric, which he'd snagged several yards of. On October 1 st , Seifer met Nylon at the bar before opening, though he was surprised when she led him to an empty dressing room and handed him a garment bag instead of just throwing something at him.

 

“Reversible with a detachable collar, hood, and sleeves,” said Nylon as Seifer took the coat out of the bag. It looked good, but considering how exact Nylon had been with her measuring tape, he was not surprised. The inside of the coat was a heathered gray but the outside was a blinding white that seemed to have a semi-reflective shine. Not content to merely make a coat, Nylon had put on little custom zipper pulls and set red piping along the dark grey side of the garment. Seifer pulled the coat on and couldn't help but grin. The very first time he'd ever put on the SeeD uniform, a shiver of _quality_ had gone over him and now that same feeling was going over him now. Nylon's coat fit even better and didn't need a belt to keep it close to his body. When Seifer looked at himself through a cell phone camera, he grinned when he saw that the entire upper half of his body was completely blurred out in blinding white even when his hood was not up. And Nylon had given him back all the scrap fabric too, which Seifer planned on stitching into some of his other clothes.

 

“Sweet,” said Seifer, taking the coat off and putting it through its paces. By the time the hall outside started to murmur with conversation and the clack of platform shoes, Seifer put the coat in the garment bag and said, “Hey... Nylon. Thanks for everything.”

 

“You're welcome,” she said, smiling. “You ever gonna come through again? People are starting to get used to having you around.”

 

“Nah, I need to keep moving. Plus I don't wanna get pigeonholed as 'Captain Save-a-Hoe'.”

 

Nylon laughed. “What, hoe money not good enough for you anymore?”

 

“The hoes need the money more than I do,” said Seifer, smirking. “Speaking of which—catch.”

 

“Thank ya much,” said Nylon as Seifer tossed her a white envelope filled with gil. She opened it up and counted out the bills and Seifer saw her eyes widen. “Dude, what the fuck? This is way too much for a jacket.”

 

“Finder's fees,” he said, going for the dressing room door. “See ya around.”

 

“Wait up.”

 

“What?”

 

Nylon came up to him and kissed him on the mouth, molding herself to him as she pinned him against the wall. It was so sudden and shocking that he didn't even register what had happened until he felt a tongue in his mouth. Seifer knew from previous conversations that she was over thirty and got around a bit, which made him freeze as she kissed him with all the experience that implied. He wasn't a blushing virgin by any means, but when she finally let him go Seifer was more than half-dazed and ratherheated. He had _never_ been kissed like that before.

 

“Hah! You should see your face,” said Nylon, grinning. Seifer nearly jumped out of his skin as she slid her hand down his pants, confidently grasping the results of her amazing kissing skills. As she squeezed and startled all his breath out of him, she purred, “My shift doesn't start for another hour, so...”

 

“No thanks,” Seifer said immediately, turning bright red and feeling very uncomfortable. “And I have a girlfriend.”

 

“...what.” Nylon pulled her hand out of his pants and stepped back, glaring at him. “Are you freaking _kidding_ me?”

 

“Also I'm 18,” said Seifer, which made Nylon blink and then curse.

 

“FUCK, I forgot about that! Shit!” She sighed moodily, leaning against the dressing room counter. “Though you kiss like a teenager, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I always go for the wrong ones.”

 

Seifer sidled toward the door, half-afraid to take his eyes off her. “...Bye, Nylon. Maybe see you around.”

 

“Bye... Captain.”

 

He let her have it. Poor Nylon. When Seifer got home, he took a long, hot shower to scrub off the scent of cougar and started packing for Deling City.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Not much to say about this chapter. Onto Deling City :)

  
  
/\/\/\/\/\


	16. Chapter 16

Two months went by in a blur of learning. Most of it was due to falling totally into study, much like she had during her time at the Garden. Back then, Quistis had studied alone for the most part, too smart for her age group and too young for her intellectual peers, and huge chunks of time had passed with Quistis, her books, and figuring out what she was capable of on the battlefield. And just like back then, the time now was measured in greater knowledge and a growing confidence that she was doing quite well. Though Norg was still irritating, she could now shift from human to her full leopard shape in less than three seconds and they were making decent headway on her being able to get into other shapes too, more specifically a Blitz and a GIM52A since their masses were not far off from her own. Oddly enough, she was having an easier time with the GIM52A despite it being robotic, but her usual access of Missile already resulted in a halfway transformation, and the directive-based mindset was very similar to how she operated as a SeeD. Now if she could just ignore pain during the transformation...

 

Meanwhile, Quistis had been reading Scholar's notes. At first Quistis had been shocked to realize that accounts nearly four millennia old stille existed, but apparently the Shumi had realized the value of digitizing private records as soon as they realized they had the capacity, and such records had been faithfully copied and preserved throughout the ages on every new advance the Shumi had ever come up with. In Scholar's case, her notes were both informative and entertaining.

 

“ _The Terrans summon and control their Beasts through sound. Interestingly they are able to produce two tones at once, a droning undertone and a higher melodic tone, and the careful combination of the two creates a summoning melody that pulls Beasts from the ether much as Shumi formation dance does. Two things of note: firstly, the Beasts cannot be summoned without a critical mass of Terran ether present, a circular problem since there are few Beasts to evaporate into the necessary mass. Secondly, the Terran singing voice is absolutely terrifying when one hears it in the middle of night without context, as I came awake utterly convinced that very many large frogs were coming to eat me.”_

 

A peeping made Quistis blink and look around, and it wasn't until she saw a little light flashing on top of her desk that Quistis realized one of her alarms had gone off. When she checked her phone to see what it was, the message indicating “Pack for Deling City” made her glad she'd remembered to schedule the event, but she was also dismayed that the time had flown by so quickly. Fortunately, she already had travel arrangements: apparently Norg wanted to check something in Balamb Garden, so they were going to go together in a Shumi vessel, and from there Quistis would take the train from Balamb Garden to Deling City. Xu would unfortunately be busy during that part of the journey, but had made time to spend with Quistis on the way back. And while Quistis was happy she would get to see Xu in any capacity considering how busy she was, she couldn't help but wonder if her old friend was maybe punishing her a little by not immediately coming back to the Garden. Quistis had never wanted that kind of distance.

 

“ _Or maybe she's scared of me,”_ Quistis thought from time to time, flushing with shame when she remembered losing control of her shape in front of Xu. It was fine with Squall: to be totally honest, if Squall had gotten really freaked out and wanted nothing to do with her, Quistis would have been sad but ultimately fine. Squall had not been the biggest part of her life from age 10 to 18. Squall had not literally pulled Quistis from the darkness of a terrible family life. Quistis and Squall had spent some time together as children, but Quistis had always considered Xu to be her family. And Xu had always felt the same throughout Quistis's moments of angst and doubt with blue magic, but it was one thing to be fine with powers that only showed during crisis. Did Xu think Quistis was a monster, even a little?

 

“ _At least I don't have to worry about Seifer,”_ went through Quistis's mind as well. Seifer had been there for her first transformation and had unintentionally helped her come back to human. He would not care no matter how many shapes she took. And knowing she was going to see him soon made Quistis feel better indeed, because there was no indication in Scholar's records that the Terrans had felt anything except soldierly discipline. Being young and in love, especially wild inappropriate passionate love, felt like an affirmation of humanity. 

 

But it wasn't so delightful and romantic that common sense could go completely out the window. The hunt for Seifer Almasy was still on and Quistis was sure that the rumors about the two of them being involved were still persisting, so for that reason, Quistis decided it would be prudent to meet Seifer in disguise, one he would hopefully recognize.

 

“ _I won't be able to use the_ exact _red wig, but finding something with a similar enough color should work... And I'll wear all black, so it should work. Oh, I hope he's figured out a way to get past cameras. I won't take it amiss if he doesn't show up... He needs to be safe, and I'd never forgive myself if he got caught because he was trying to see me. It was bad enough last time...”_

 

Quistis briefly considered standing Seifer up, but that wouldn't help personal matters in the least. Besides, she trusted that Seifer would figure something out and be smart enough to stay away if things weren't right.

 

It did not take much time for her to pack, and in a short while she and Norg were taking a high-speed Shumi submarine to Balamb Harbor, and what would have taken an entire day in a gunboat was cut down to roughly eight hours (which was good since Norg was physically uncomfortable in the tight confines and Quistis's patience with his constant grumbling about the space was wearing very thin). They hardly spoke to each other on the ride down and as soon as they landed, all but bolted for their respective destinations. Fortunately everyone at the docks was so stunned at seeing Norg manage to squeeze himself out of the ship that nobody noticed Quistis slip out behind him and head to the train station just in time to catch the last express to Deling City.

 

Thanks to the emergency disguise kit in the SeeD cabin, Quistis emerged in Deling City as red-haired 'Anna Vronsky'. Before going to Shumi Village, Quistis had made a reservation to stay at a hotel near the arts and entertainment district, ostensibly in Deling City to visit the museums and libraries. It was about a five minute walk away from the bar Quistis had chosen as her and Seifer's rendezvous, the Horrible Revelation. She had been there once before for Rinoa's birthday and the name had stuck in her mind, as well as the drink specials which were named things like 'Yes, You Have To Say Sorry' and 'Your Parents Weren't Playing Horsie'. It had actually been a very fun night, the highlight of which was watching Irvine get frustrated by Squall lying facedown on the grass because he was _not_ too drunk, he was just tired and he needed to take a nap _right there_. Fortunately, they'd all been in disguise back then too, only two months fresh out of Time Compression and far too famous to walk around as just themselves, so there were no pictures of Commander Leonhart having to be dragged out of a public park by his best friends.

 

Since Quistis had planned to stay out in the world for ten days, she had made plans to see all her friends with the idea tht having a definite schedule with them meant they would not pop in on her unexpectedly, or so Quistis thought until she exited the train and found all five of her teenage friends waiting on the platform. Selphie was holding up a sign covered in glitter saying BIRTHDAY GIRL, which made Quistis laugh aloud even as she swore internally. In retrospect, she should not have been surprised that they'd know exactly where she was: she had used her ID number to access the cabin, and it had probably sent Squall an alert.

 

“ _Well, I'm meeting Seifer at 11... I can ditch them before then. I'll say I'm tired and want to go to bed early, which isn't entirely untrue...”_

 

“Surprise!” Selphie shouted, followed by everyone except Squall, who just nodded and then after being elbowed by Rinoa, held up a little flag that said 19 on it and waved it just from the wrist. That made Quistis laugh sincerely.

 

“Surprise indeed! I thought I'd be seeing you all separately.”

 

“Well we talked about it, and this way everybody gets a vacation,” said Rinoa, smiling enough for both her and Squall. He nodded, the look on his face telling Quistis he was still wrapping his mind around the concept.

 

“Okay, so we have a whole birthday night planned for you,” said Selphie, looping her arm through Quistis's as Irvine smoothly relieved her of her bag. “We're gonna get dressed up fancy at Rinoa's house and then have dinner and then after—”

 

“I actually have plans,” said Quistis, making everyone look at her in surprise. Rinoa started to grin.

 

“Quistis! Do you have a date?” She asked delightly, which made everyone exclaim in shock. Except Squall again, who tensed up slightly and looked at Quistis with narrowed eyes.

 

Quistis laughed a bit nervously. “Uh, well...”

 

“OH MY GOD YOU DO!” Selphie near-shrieked, practically vibrating with excitement. “YEEEK! Telltelltell!”

 

“Yeah, tell us,” said Rinoa, eyes sparkling. Quistis leaned back as the darkhaired girl and Selphie both rose up on their toes to crowd her space and then opened their eyes unsettlingly wide like they could hypnotize her. Clearly they had been spending a _lot_ of time together.

 

“Tell us.”

 

“Tell us.”

 

“Tell us.”

 

“Tell us.”

 

“Help me,” said Quistis to the boys as Rinoa and Selphie continued their demands in soft but way-too-excited voices and kept crowding her.

 

“Join us,” said Selphie without taking her eyes off Quistis, which made Zell shrug and then join in the creepy chorus with gusto. Irvine just laughed and then took a picture with his cell phone, while Squall folded his arms and couldn't quite hide his smile.

 

They drove to Quistis's hotel to drop her things off and then to Rinoa's house to get disguised for dinner; in a group all together, they would be an irresistible target for celebrity photographers. General Caraway was sitting in the living room when they arrived, reading a paperback novel and looking very much like a stereotypical dad in a silk robe and pajama pants.

 

“Good evening, General,” said Squall as they came into the living (as opposed to receiving) part of the mansion.

 

“Good evening, Commander,” said Caraway formally, looking over the top of his book. “And company. Happy birthday, Quistis.”

 

“Thank you, General.” Quistis inclined her head politely as everyone else said hi. They weren't quite sure how to treat Caraway; was he the leader of a country, a massively powerful politician in his own right, or just their friend's dad? Quistis opted for a polite demeanor that would cover all the bases. “I'm surprised to see you relaxing. Isn't the election coming up in two months?”

 

Caraway unexpectedly laughed while Squall said to Quistis, “He's not running.”

 

“I hate administration,” said Caraway, going back to his book. “I was happy to serve my country in the interim, but now there are four candidates who I think will be decent in the role. So I'm stepping down and letting them fight it out.”

 

“That's a pity,” said Quistis, and she meant that. “Galbadia has done very well under your leadership.”

 

“You mean it hasn't caught on fire,” he said wryly. Quistis looked at him closely and realized that this was a happier, more relaxed man than she remembered. “But thank you. In any case, I'm looking forward to a relaxing retirement.”

 

“Retirement?” said Zell, surprised.

 

“I'm sixty years old,” he said, making everyone stare; Rinoa just sighed and smiled. “My country is doing well. My child is doing even better. I think I'm going to take a year off and go someplace warm.”

 

“And don't you dare come back without a tan and a girlfriend,” said Rinoa, putting her hands on her hips. “Preferably not a gold digger.”

 

“You'll run background checks for me, won't you?” Caraway asked Squall, raising his brows. “Considering one of those women may become your future stepmother-in-law?”

 

“Uhh...” Squall looked awkwardly from him to Rinoa and back again, slowly turning red.

 

Rinoa and Caraway burst out laughing, which made Quistis smile. This was a very different relationship indeed. She had no doubt they still fought, but really... She thought this was more how fathers and daughters should interact.

 

Upstairs, two of the spare bedrooms had been turned into rough costume shops and they spent the next few hours trying on disguises and wigs, creating the craziest looks before finally adapting what they'd wear out for their night on the town. Quistis had packed something she'd thought suitable, but Rinoa and Selphie bullied her into wearing something a bit more showy. Fortunately, the red wig Quistis had come into Deling City wearing passed muster.

 

“Hot damn,” said Irvine, looking the ladies up and down as they came down from Rinoa's room, where they'd put on the final touches of purely cosmetic makeup. The boys had gotten enough training in Disguise to take care of themselves, but still looked like regular dudes. “Y'all look like a superhero team.”

 

Quistis snorted, while Selphie and Rinoa instantly struck poses. Selphie had put on a long, curling wig of rich brown waves and a red dress, while Rinoa had stuffed her long black hair under a short dark brown wig and was wearing black jeans with a black-and-yellow striped shirt. Quistis was wearing a flowing black halter-topped jumpsuit with no back and a cropped black leather jacket to hide the whip scars on her arms. All of them were in heels.

 

“B for Bitchdetta,” said Rinoa to Selphie, who grinned.

 

“Hell in High Heels,” the shorter girl shot back.

 

“Femme Fantastic,” said Quistis, which made Rinoa and Selphie go 'oooh' in admiration.

 

“And we're the scuzzies,” said Zell, grinning broadly. To disguise his powerful frame, he was wearing a baggy gray hoodie and slightly ill-fitting pants that would nevertheless let him move and run as needed. Heavy makeup and powder covered his distinctive facial tattoo and his hair was black instead of blonde, not that anyone could tell from under the beanie he was wearing too.

 

“Speak for yourself,” said Irvine. He had gone whole hog with his look, dying his long brown hair a strawberry blond and swapping out his customary duster for black leather pants, boots, and a black button-up that he wore a bit buttoned down. A blazer that was halfway between the color purple and wine made his skin look darker than usual, and he'd found a flashy silver necklace from somewhere in the costume trove, which made him look like a rich young thing out on the town. He looked especially flashy next to Zell, who seemed to be reveling in his hobo-ish look.

 

In contrast, Squall did not look much different at all. He just seemed to be wearing shades and a black shirt instead of a white one, though he had dyed his hair a sandy blonde color and styled it differently. Quistis heard Rinoa's sigh of disappointment.

 

“You could have chosen to look like anything,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “And you chose something that's _that_ similar to your normal look?”

 

Squall said nothing. And then he smiled, huge and broad, all teeth. Everyone leaned a little away from him in surprise. But the greater shock came as soon as Squall started to walk; instead of his usual business stride, there was an arrogant roll in his steps and a slight slouch in his spine that turned him into a completely different person.

 

“Trust me,” he said, his voice pitched a little higher and louder than it normally was. “No one will be able to tell.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Rinoa asked, now sounding intrigued.

 

“Oh yeah.”

 

“That is _weird,_ ” said Selphie in appreciation as Squall walked up the steps to Rinoa, casually slung his arm around her waist, and kissed her in full view of everyone. “Whoa!”

 

“What was your grade in Disguise?” Zell asked when Squall let Rinoa up for air. She seemed very pink in the face and utterly delighted.

 

“100,” said Squall, turning around.

 

“Shit.”

 

“I had no idea you were such a fine actor,” said Quistis, looking at Squall in astonishment.

 

He shrugged, but even that motion wasn't his normal quick jerk of the shoulders. It was almost a challenge, in a way reminding Quistis of Seifer. “Just because I didn't talk to people for years doesn't mean I wasn't watching them,” said Squall. “Or paying attention.”

 

They loaded back into the car and went out to the restaurant, which was fancy indeed. Zell started sweating bullets as he looked over the menu and saw nothing he recognized, so he let Rinoa pick something for him and was relieved when it turned out to be something delicious. The staff treated them somewhat suspiciously like they weren't sure that six teenagers could afford the entire meal, but as soon as Rinoa laid out her gold card on the table, the service became nearly obsequious. Quistis noticed this even as she laughed on the surface and squirmed a bit in secret. It was going to be difficult to reconcile this group of friends with who she was seeing later, and she prayed that nothing disastrous might happen. Unconsciously she drank more wine than she was used to between worry and her friends constantly plying her with 'birthday booze', and as the meal wound down, Quistis was more than a bit more buzzed when it came time to leave. But it wasn't all bad. As they ate and laughed and relaxed, Quistis found herself smiling until her face hurt. For so long she had been so worried about things that had seemed too awesomely large to tackle, but with this particular group, what _couldn't_ they handle? What couldn't be survivd through? Heck, Rinoa was a sorceress and nobody cared at all.

 

“Thank you so much, everyone,” said Quistis, trying not to tear up between the booze and the great swelling of emotion in her chest. “Really. I think this is the best birthday I've ever had. Thank you in particular for setting it up, Selphie.”

 

“Aww...” Selphie clapped her hands to her face, blushing and wiggling back and forth. “You're welcome!”

 

“And then you've got a hot date after,” said Rinoa, waggling her eyebrows as she sipped a martini.

 

“Yes I do,” said Quistis, unaware that her cheeks turned pink. The anxiety started to ramp up again, making her say, “Speaking of which, I should probably get going...”

 

“Aww, come on! It's only 10,” said Selphie, pouting. “You said you're meeting him at 11, right? Why don't you just bring him along with us?”

 

“I think they would rather have alone time,” said Squall unexpectedly, making everyone look at him; he was friendlier, but still not considerate most of the time. He was still calibrating to social situations. Quistis shot him a look of grateful understanding, completely missing how Rinoa and Selphie exchanged subtle looks.

 

“Yeah, meeting a girl's friends all at once can be pretty freaky,” said Irvine, making Selphie roll her eyes and elbow him good-naturedly.

 

“Okay then, have a nice time!” said Rinoa, waving brightly. “I've got the check, so just go and have fun. See you tomorrow!”

 

“Bright and early for brunch,” Quistis responded, smiling. Her friends couldn't help but smile back, though they do wondered what sort of secret boyfriend could make her smile so prettily. As she left the restaurant essentially floating on air, Rinoa laced her hands together and leaned forward on the table in a way that reminded everyone of Squall planning a complex operation. The check arrived and as soon as Rinoa paid, she and Selphie instantly shot to their feet.

 

“Let's go,” said Rinoa, a glint in her eye.

 

“Wait, what?” Irvine looked confused.

 

Squall just sighed. “We're following Quistis, aren't we.”

 

“Oh don't sound so _excited_ ,” said Rinoa, chucking him in the arm. “We won't intrude. We'll just look the guy over. Chances are we'll meet him later in the week anyway.”

 

“Then we should wait until later in the week,” said Irvine with a frown. “I don't like this 'spying on friends' business.”

 

“We're not spying,” said Selphie reasonably. “We're just going to the same place she is to get a drink.”

 

“I dunno...” Zell squirmed a bit.

 

“Well, Selphie and I are going no matter what,” said Rinoa, gathering her clutch and card. “When it comes to dating, we're her big sisters and we definitely have to go and smell out the crazy on this guy.”

 

“Yeah, considering her last boyfriend...” Selphie's expression flattened, making everyone wince a little and Squall in particular start to sweat. “I'm not saying she has bad taste in men, but like... I'm not saying we shouldn't be worried, either.”

 

“Plus, she didn't even tell us his name,” said Rinoa, frowning. “Doesn't that seem weird to you?”

 

“Maybe because y'all are acting like _her_ dating information is _your_ business,” shot Irvine at the girls, who ignored him.

 

“Yeah, that's not really a good sign if she doesn't even give up that information,” said Selphie, nodding.

 

“Or where he's from.”

 

“Or what he does.”

 

“Or how old he is.”

 

“Or...” Selphie gasped, her hands flying to her face. “If he's SINGLE.”

 

“What?!” Zell and Irvine both yelled at once, Squall's eyes going round.

 

“No, she wouldn't do that,” said Zell, but Selphie gave him a 'you never know!' sort of look. “She wouldn't!”

 

“Not on _purpose,_ but people lie,” said Rinoa, folding her arms with a souring look on her face. “And if he was leading her around, it makes perfect sense why he'd swear her to secrecy. It's not like she has the experience to know when she's being messed with, and she's just smart enough that she can come up with all the reasonable explanations for why he's a douche. If he's a douche.”

 

The boys looked helplessly at each other. Clearly the girls were on a mission, so they might as well be supervised.

 

“Okay,” said Irvine heavily, getting to his feet. “Let's go.”

 

“Yay!” Selphie hopped up on her tiptoes to sling her arms around Irvine's neck and peck him on the lips. “Best boyfriend.”

 

“Come on,” said Rinoa, pulling on Squall's arm. He was refusing to move. “Come _on,_ babe _._ I will totally leave you here if you don't get up.”

 

“I'm going on the record as saying this is a horrible idea,” said Zell, pointing at all of them as Squall got very, very slowly to his feet. “ _And_ I'm gonna ditch you all if she catches us. Just saying. I'm pretty sure I'm faster'n she is and I'm not stopping for any of you.”

 

Quistis had taken a cab, but everyone remembered the stunning, slightly tipsy redhead going to the hilariously named 'Horrible Revelation', so the five teenagers piled into a taxi of their own and went along. Squall facepalmed as Selphie and Rinoa swapped costume elements in the car, giggling the whole time. Internally he was trying to figure out how to keep the girls away, because if any of them would recognize Seifer in disguise, it was probably going to be Rinoa and she reacted...loudly...when surprised. Squall had a nightmare vision of Rinoa accidentally screaming out the secret at the top of her lungs in the middle of a crowded place, and even if she managed to hold back, Selphie would probably pick up on it and do the same thing just to fuck Seifer over.

 

As soon as they arrived at the Horrible Revelation, the uneven sound levels and large crowd outside made Rinoa cock her head and then laugh, clapping her hands.

 

“Okay, we're _totally_ staying now,” said Rinoa to the mystified group as they entered. “It's live band karaoke night! Awesome.”

 

“Oooh!” Selphie squealed, eyes shining. “This is gonna be fun!”

 

As they entered, flashing lights combined with the assault of a live band and a singer that was _not_ quite on point hit them all like sledgehammers to the face, except for Rinoa who had been there before. Confidently she led everyone over to the bar, ordered shots, and then slipped away to find a set book for singing. Meanwhile Selphie kept looking around for Quistis, eventually spotting her at the far end of the bar by herself and looking around with some mild excitement. At once Selphie ducked conspiciously behind the bar, hiding until just her eyes were visible. Zell, Squall, and Irvine all looked down at her.

 

“Yeah, like that ain't suspicious,” Irvine quipped.

 

“Shhh, it's more fun this way,” said Selphie, and then squeaked as Quistis turned and seemed to look right at them. “She's looking this way!”

 

And abruptly Selphie had company hiding behind the bar.

 

“Why am I doing this?” Zell asked no one in particular, still sweating as he flattened against the counter.

 

“Beats me,” grumbled Irvine, nevertheless peeking out around the corner of the bar.

 

“Okay, what do we wanna sing?” Rinoa asked, a song book in her hands as she came over and crouched next to all of them. Squall facepalmed again, but did not get up from his own kneeling position.

 

“If our intention is to spy, why would we sing?” Irvine demanded.

 

“Because we're not spying, we're just getting a drink in the same place she is,” said Selphie, even though she did not stand up at all. Unperturbed, the bartender leaned over the counter and told them they all had to get up or else, so they retreated over to a just-vacated booth where they could make song selections and keep an eye on Quistis.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I do miss writing some pure silly from time to time. Points if you catch the costume references!

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	17. Chapter 17

“ _This is some **BULLSHIT,”**_ thought Seifer furiously, making the third round inside the bar. He had even gotten there early, knowing Quistis usually arrived at a place anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes ahead of time, but between the darkness in the bar and knowing she'd probably disguise her looks, he just couldn't tell which of the hundred-odd women in the bar were her. He'd even held off drinking just to make sure he could spot her as soon as possible.

 

“ _Alright, what do I know... She's gonna be in disguise. But she'll want to be recognizable somehow. So what would I recognize? Her eyes. Her lips. Her smile. If I only knew what she was wearing!_

 

“ _...Wait a minute. She hates having bare arms. And I don't think I've ever seen her legs outside of bed. It's nice enough out that most women are wearing short dresses, so who here is completely covered up?”_

 

Seifer started on his fourth round, this time looking for hot women who were hiding it all away, and finally spotted someone who looked like she matched the criteria. She had long, sleek hair that seemed to be the sort of red that was just barely natural and the only flashes of skin she was showing were her hands, her ankles, and the smooth column of her neck. Seifer looked at her closely and smiled when she turned out toward the crowd, her eyes flashing reflectively like a cat's as her gaze slid over him and then abruptly snapped back. Her eyes went wide, shining like mirrors, and Seifer couldn't quite suppress his grin as he eeled through the crowd to come to her.

 

“For the record, I was early,” he told her.

 

“Cameras,” Quistis hissed. He had shaved and dyed his hair back to his natural color, which was no doubt why she was looking around like she was expecting armed soldiers to come pouring out of the walls.

 

“What a good idea! Let's take a picture,” he said, making her rear back. Without giving her a chance to run, Seifer slung his arm around her shoulder and snapped a cell phone photo of the two of them. As Quistis glared him furiously, he pulled it up and watched her anger transmute into confusion.

 

“What did you do?” She asked, stunned, as she saw the white blur standing next to her in the picture.

 

“I took care of the camera problem,” said Seifer, and then kissed her lightly on the lips. He detected a whiff of wine and wondered absently what she'd had already. “Hi.”

 

“Hi,” she said, smiling reluctantly. Nevertheless she hit him lightly on the chest, saying, “ _Lead_ with that next time! I almost had a heart attack!”

 

“Aw, but it's not as fun that way,” he said, grinning broadly. “I love it when you're surprised.”

 

“More like 'hideously terrified',” Quistis grumbled, her smile nevertheless turning into the one that had captivated him so long ago. The giddiness of being out in public and seeing Quistis all dressed up (with red hair again! He loved her blonde locks, but red was always exciting) made pure, uncomplicated excitement bubble in Seifer's chest like it hadn't for months, and overwhelmed by sudden joy, Seifer grasped Quistis's face in both hands and kissed her sweetly on the lips. Mindful of people around, he didn't try anything more risque, but he felt a dreamy, pleasant hum go through his mouth as Quistis seemed to melt into his touch.

 

Across the bar, Selphie and Rinoa went 'aww!' while the boys looked vaguely uncomfortable. Squall in particular kept his lips glued to his beer, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Before his eyes, a person who had initially had brown hair and tanned-leather skin was paling out, his hair becoming a familiar blond and his skin turning fair. The white jacket, well fitted and worn open, remained the same.

 

“ _Sorcery,”_ thought Squall, sipping his beer. _“It has to be. And it makes perfect sense. Matron_ always _gave him a pass, plus the White SeeDs would believe that he didn't mean to do anything he did: Matron didn't, and they can't excuse her without excusing him. Damn it, was he on the Ship when Rinoa and I came through?”_

 

It was very tempting to go over and whack Seifer on the head while his guard was clearly down, but that would put Quistis in an awkward situation. Not to mention that she looked really, really happy and Squall cursed himself for wanting her to stay that way for a little longer. Stupid friendship making things more complicated.

 

“I don't like him,” said Irvine, making everyone look at him in surprise. Irvine pretty much liked everyone.

 

“Yeah, me neither,” said Zell, grumbling. “They're in public! Look how he's hanging all over her. It's gross.”

 

"Plus that's the douchiest haircut I've ever seen," said Irvine, which made Rinoa snort her drink a bit and Squall have to clamp his lips together. Meanwhile Zell just looked at him strangely.

 

"I wonder where they met,” said Selphie, watching as Quistis and her boyfriend ordered drinks.

 

“Well it had to be in Dollet, right?” Rinoa mused. “It's where she's been since Time Compression ended.”

 

“And she said he was a red mage,” said Selphie, nodding. “So he's in some sort of bloody business. Maybe he's a monster hunter.”

 

“That makes sense,” said Rinoa, her eyes lightning up. “Quistis said that she'd clear monsters in the Grand Library from time to time. They probably met there.”

 

“Aannh,” Zell winced, covering his eyes as Quistis's boyfriend nuzzled her neck, making her smile in a distinctly heated way. “I don't like it. I wanna leave.”

 

“Oh we can't leave yet,” said Rinoa, immediately changing her focus. “We haven't sung!”

 

“And I want a rematch,” said Selphie, looking at Zell with eyes that burned with competition. “I _totally_ should have won the karaoke contest at the Ball.”

 

“Hah!” Zell shook his head, humor lightening his face. “You're on.”

 

“Squall, you should sing too,” said Selphie, making Squall shake his head. “It'll be fun!”

 

“I don't sing in public,” he said, folding his arms.

 

“But you have such a nice voice, babe!” Rinoa exclaimed, making Zell and Irvine look at Squall skeptically.

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

Rinoa got a crafty look on her face and whispered something in Squall's ear that made the annoyed look drop off his face at once, replaced by a wide-eyed blankness that slowly turned into a blush. He swallowed and folded his arms even more tightly across his chest.

 

“Still no,” he said, looking away.

 

“Damn, I really thought that would work,” Rinoa huffed, leaning on the table. Irvine looked speculatively at Selphie, a slow grin going across his face.

 

“I don't want to sing either,” he told her.

 

“Nice try,” said Selphie, wagging her finger at him. “But I already know what you're doing... Ooh, they're on the move!”

 

Everyone leaned out to see Quistis and her boyfriend go out onto the dancefloor, the former being slightly pulled by the latter. It was a slower song that was less suited to the bump and grind of usual bar dancing, and their estimation of Quistis's mystery man rose a few notches as they saw that he actually knew how to dance. Gradually a space cleared around them as they went through actual dance steps, though it wasn't movie-perfect; they stumbled, lost counts, and Quistis started laughing when for no good reason, her boyfriend started spinning the both of them so fast that her hair flew out like a red banner. Rinoa suddenly frowned and leaned forward.

 

“ _That's a reel step,”_ she thought. _“A Galbadian reel step. And you don't go that fast unless you have practice...”_

 

Her suspicion rose when Quistis's boyfriend let her out of the spin with a slight lean and hit the end of his stride with a hard, distinctive kick against the floor, followed by two more taps a beat later.

 

“ _I've only ever seen students at G-Garden do that flourish,”_ thought Rinoa, cocking her head.

 

“What is it?” Selphie asked her.

 

Rinoa explained about the dance step, which made everyone look at Irvine.

 

“I don't know 'im,” said Irvine with a shrug. “I mean, I went to reels and what, but he don't look familiar.”

 

“So that means he was in Galbadian SeeD training then,” mused Selphie, pursing her lips. “Since Irvy was fast-tracked to the army.”

 

“Babe,” said Rinoa, looking at Squall.

 

“What?”

 

“Can you look up a list of Galbadian SeeDs?” She asked, making him tense up. “There's not many of them, right? So we can match his face to a photo...”

 

“No,” said Squall, lying for the first time in his relationship. “Even if I could, it's weird. Just leave her alone.”

 

“You've made _how_ much?” Quistis gasped as she and Seifer recollected their drinks and slid into a two-person booth on the far side of the bar.

 

Seifer repeated the figure, grinning broadly as Quistis's mouth fell open in shock. “I'm catching up,” he told her, sipping his drink. “I bet your figures from the same span of time aren't that high at all.”

 

Quistis's eyes narrowed as she consulted her mission memory and then widened in dismay. Monetary figures aside, she was further behind than she thought when it came to the number of jobs too. Seifer breaking her record of 60 missions in 2 years was starting to look like a reality, and despite everything a little burst of competitive fire flared to life in her brain. Seifer laughed as she unconsciously started drinking and glaring at the same time.

 

“You know, you never told me what you'd give me if I beat you in a race,” he told her, making her blink at him and then blush.

 

“I don't have to,” she said, making his brows raise. “It's fairly obvious what you're after.”

 

“Give me some credit,” he said, putting his hand on his chest. “And make it interesting. Something personal.”

 

“Personal?” Quistis looked at him archly. “More personal than my virginity?”

 

“You can't exactly give that twice...without getting creative,” said Seifer with a leer, making Quistis roll her eyes. “Anyway, anyone can be a virgin but there's only one _you._ So... What'll you give me?”

 

Quistis drummed her fingernails on the table, feeling flattered and irritated at the same time. It was a strange feeling that nevertheless seemed suited to their relationship. It was beyond nice that Seifer was considerate in dating and very patient in bed, but his personality was still one of a proud competitor and Quistis had been wondering when she would see the 'real' Seifer Almasy again. On Seifer's end, he saw Quistis's eyes become considering and his leer turned into a real smile; the peerless professional he'd always admired was coming out to play.

 

“What will you give _me?”_ She asked coolly.

 

“My heart,” said Seifer, wanting to see how she'd react.

 

Quistis stared, shocked out of SeeD-brain into teenage-brain. Seifer seemed perfectly serious. And then he laughed and shook his head a little, startling her and then making her glare at him.

 

“ _This jerk! He likes to play around too much,”_ Quistis found herself thinking. _“This is a serious subject. Hmm...”_

 

“What are you saying?” Quistis asked, casting her gaze off to the side. “I... I don't have it already?”

 

“ _Ah, fuck,”_ thought Seifer, his amusement dying as he saw Quistis drop her gaze to the floor and start picking nervously at her nails. _“Why'd I say such a stupid thing? What do I say? The last time I said 'I love you' it was because I thought we were going to die... But now we're not going to die, so... So do I? Do I love her? And if I do, do I say it out loud? What if she doesn't say it back?”_

 

Quistis managed to look at Seifer sidelong through her hair and when his discomfort reached a certain level, she sat up and smiled at him. He blinked at her and then groaned, putting his hand to his face.

 

“Turnabout is fair play,” she retorted.

 

“Yeah yeah,” grumbled Seifer, folding his arms. “Okay, back to prizes... Hmm...”

 

“It has to be personal,” she reminded him, making him gesture with mild irritation. “Something you've never done for anyone before.”

 

“Fine. I'll let you pick my next tattoo.”

 

Quistis stared. “What?”

 

“Can't get more personal than that, right?” He taunted.

 

“I still think that _letting a different person physically inside my body_ is higher on the list,” she said dryly, making Seifer smirk. “But fine, I'll accept that wager. And in return... If you break my record...”

 

“ _Which seems likely! Ooh, he has an unfair advantage, he can make his own contracts!”_

 

“Then...” Oh gosh, she wasn't creative tonight. Alcohol buzzed in her head, or maybe it was the pounding from the decibels in the bar. It wasn't normally so hard to think. “You can pick out one for me.”

 

Now Seifer stared at her. “What? You mean... Really?”

 

“Yes,” said Quistis, feeling a little thrill of nervousness. “I will let you choose my first tattoo. Is that personal enough for you?”

 

“It's _too_ personal,” he said, which made Quistis blink at him. “You'd be picking my third, but your first... That's something that should be all you.”

 

“ _Though I do like the idea of me having left my mark on her inside and out,”_ thought Seifer with a little surge of arousal, followed closely by wondering where on that perfect body a bit of ink would be most appealing.

 

“Your third? You have a second one?” Quistis asked, tilting her head.

 

Seifer chuckled and leaned over the table, his glowing-ocean eyes very warm indeed. “Yeah. And if you're really, really good, I'll let you see it.”

 

“Ew,” said Zell, covering his face again as Quistis and her boyfriend kissed over the table. “Squall, switch places with me. I don't want to look at that.”

 

“Hobo, you're up!” called the KJ, making a scatter of laughter go over the bar. Selphie squealed and reached across the table, yanking on Zell's sleeve.

 

“That's you that's you that's you!”

 

“You called me _Hobo?!”_ Zell demanded, outraged.

 

“You brought it on yourself,” said Selphie, making Rinoa and Irvine burst out laughing as Zell scowled in his hoodie and beanie. “Come on, go!”

 

“Fine! What did you make me sing?” Zell asked as he sidled out of the booth; Irvine and Selphie scooted out of the way to let him pass.

 

“What you won the karaoke contest with,” said Selphie, making Zell look at her and then laugh.

 

“I won with that song for a reason!” He told her just as he went into the crowd, waving at the KJ as the KJ called his 'name' again. Selphie just smirked and sat down, her eyes agleam with competition.

 

“You're singing something dirty again, aren't you?” Squall asked and then groaned as Selphie nodded firmly.

 

“All of you need to judge who wins, okay?” Selphie said, pointing at all of them. “Okay?”

 

“Now that's not fair, Irvine will vote for you automatically,” said Rinoa, but both Irvine and Selphie started shaking their heads immediately. Squall looked at Irvine in mild surprise.

 

“Sefie'd hate it if I just _gave_ it to her,” said Irvine. “So I'm judging on merit.”

 

As Zell got up onto the stage, he deliberately took a path that would pass by Quistis and her boyfriend. He still didn't like the guy on principle, though he could at least admit he was decent-looking. Still, Quistis seemed pretty happy and Zell now wondered if the girls had the right idea, meeting the mystery dude to vet him before letting things progress. The last thing Quistis needed was to get her heart broken again, though when Zell thought about it, Quistis hadn't seemed particularly upset throughout the whole thing with Seifer. Squall had broken down and cried about Rinoa once and that was pretty big, but Quistis...

 

“ _Okay, so she didn't_ really _like the guy,”_ Zell decided, feeling somewhat better about things as he got up onstage and the introduction to the song began to play. _“It was just a first love sort of thing.”_

 

Seifer sat up as the synthesized beats hit a familiar rhythm and Quistis saw a weird look come over his face, like he hadn't decided if something tasted good or not.

 

“What?” She asked him, glancing at the singer.

 

“This is a really hard song for guys to pull off,” said Seifer, still with that weird semi-pained look on his face. “I've literally never heard it done well by someone who wasn't a professional singer.”

 

“What's hard about it?” Quistis asked as she sipped her drink. The alcohol burn sat comfortably in her stomach, the disorienting effects buffered by the excellent birthday dinner, and now her hearing was starting to pound a little in a not-unpleasant way.

 

“Wait for it.” Seifer cocked his head. “There it is. He's going to go really high in three, two, one...”

 

“Ooh,” said Rinoa with a wince, leaning back in her booth as Zell's voice cracked. Zell winced and shrugged apologetically to the audience, making Selphie cackle.

 

“I'm gonna win!” She whooped, making everyone at the table laugh good-naturedly. “I'm gonna win!”

 

“You're saying you can do better?” Quistis asked, amused by the increasing redness of Seifer's face.

 

“Fuck yeah.”

 

“Really?” Quistis couldn't really imagine Seifer singing onstage, but the longer she looked at him, the more she realized that it wasn't really that odd. He did like attention and performing. Still... _Singing._ She started to smile. “Why don't you show me?”

 

“Really?” Quistis couldn't really imagine Seifer singing onstage, but the longer she looked at him, the more she realized that it wasn't really that odd. He did like attention and performing. Still... _Singing._ She started to smile. “Why don't you show me?”

 

“Hold onto your socks,” said Seifer immediately as he slid out of his seat. “Or maybe your panties. Be right back.”

 

It took Quistis just a second too long to realize that Seifer was serious about her offhand remark, and by then he had already disappeared into the crowd. She gasped aloud and immediately got out of her seat, but unfortunately rammed into someone who had chosen just that moment to walk by the table, and by the time they both recovered, there was not even a flash of white for Quistis to track her errant lover by. Horror chilled her blood but was almost immediately replaced by white-hot, nearly blinding fury. That _ass._ He'd been confident about going about in disguise once before and look how that had ended up! And now he wanted to sing onstage in a crowded bar? Quistis seriously entertained the idea of wringing Seifer's neck. Or maybe just grabbing him by the lapels and shaking some sense back into that head of his... Not that that had ever worked...

 

She headed toward the stage and the line of people who were looking to sign up to sing, but Seifer was nowhere to be found. As she scanned the crowd, her eye fell on the current singer, and the longer Quistis looked at him, the more familiar he seemed until Quistis abruptly realized that _Zell_ was the one onstage. Her mouth dropped open in shock as icewater seemed to flood her veins for the second time in as many minutes. Weakly reason protested that no, this couldn't possibly be Zell, there were lots of short muscular teens in hoodies in Deling City, but then the singer made a familiar punching gesture and Quistis could not ignore the truth any longer. Wonderful. Just WONDERFUL!

 

But as always in intense times of shock, the SeeD part of Quistis's brain took over.

 

  1. Zell was here.

  2. He would not be here alone. Therefore everyone else was with him.

  3. Was he a danger to Seifer? Was everyone else?

  4. More information was required.




 

Quistis looked around, feeling her blood cool and sharpen to something mercury-quick as adrenaline seemed to burn the alcohol away. Now that she was looking, she instantly spotted her friends in a booth, and Selphie and Rinoa both jumped when they saw her looking at them. _Of course._ Sliding out of her seat, Quistis beelined for them with a hunter's eyes.

 

“Wow, she looks _super_ mad,” Selphie giggled nervously. Meanwhile Rinoa wondered if she was hallucinating the mirror-like flash of Quistis's blue irises, which seemed somewhat larger than usual. Squall silently sunk down into his seat, hiding behind his beer. He had the feeling _he_ was going to catch the most shit for not stopping everyone.

 

“ _Hmm, schmoopy or not schmoopy?”_ Seifer mused as he flipped through the song book, which had ended up on the bar. He could almost imagine Fujin and Raijin standing over his shoulder, but had been unaware of Quistis looking for him in a panic behind him. 

 

“ _Schmoop,”_ Raijin would say, grinning.

 

“ _EXTRA SCHMOOP,”_ Fujin would agree.

 

“ _Not schmoopy, then,”_ Seifer decided, making his projections of his two best friends groan and then laugh at him. He wrote his song selection down on a piece of paper and handed it to the KJ along with a 20-gil note, making the man raise his brows until Seifer said, “It's for my girl.”

 

“So your boyfriend seems nice!” Selphie said brightly as soon as Quistis came into range. Quistis almost felt something click inside her head at the innocent, slightly panicked sound of her friend's voice.

 

“ _She sounds too relaxed to know it's Seifer... So none of them know either. They just honestly came here to spy on me.”_

 

Quistis nearly staggered with relief. But their nosiness still demanded a response, which made Quistis think hard for the two seconds it took her to get all the way to the table.

 

“What the hell is wrong with all of you?” Quistis demanded wrathfully, glaring around the table.

 

“It was the girls,” Irvine said instantly, cringing. Squall slunk further underneath the table.

 

“Oh come on, you'd do the same,” said Rinoa as she sipped her drink

 

“I'm fairly certain I wouldn't!”

 

“Yeah you would,” said Selphie, making Quistis glare at her. “If you didn't know the guy? If we were willing to ditch our friends and not even give up a name? It's really weird how secretive you're being, especially since he seems so sweet and all!”

 

“ _You wouldn't be saying that if you saw his real face,”_ thought Quistis even as she said aloud, “Maybe I just wanted to make sure things would work out before introducing him to everyone!”

 

“Aww, Quisty—”

 

“Don't 'aww Quisty' me!” said Quistis, getting into her stride. “If it doesn't work out, then I'm going to hear about my 'bad taste in men' from the both of you! Forever!”

 

“No,” said Rinoa, looking stricken. Tipsy though he was, Squall knew an opening when he saw one and sat up, eyes alight with relief.

 

“We'll get out,” said Squall, giving Rinoa a push in the hip. “Sorry.”

 

“You'd better be,” Quistis near-growled, making Selphie and Rinoa turn red and slink out of their seats. Then Selphie gasped and pointed up at the stage.

 

“Your boyfriend's singing!”

 

“What?” Quistis whipped around and froze when she saw Seifer climbing up on the stage. He high-fived Zell, who grinned and came down. It was seriously weird for both her and Squall, who tensed up at the sight of a non-antagonistic interaction between Seifer and Zell.

 

“Okay, now we _have_ to stay for this,” said Selphie, starting to grin.

 

“No!” Quistis said immediately, whipping back around. “Go away!”

 

“Aww, come on,” said Selphie, making her eyes huge and remorseful. “Pleeease? Then I swear we'll never follow you again.”

 

“No!” Quistis snapped, but as she heard the introduction to the song, she turned around in shock. Seifer was singing one of the songs off the CD he'd made her at the beginning of their relationship.

 

“Oh, damn,” said Rinoa, pre-emptively wincing.

 

“What?” Irvine asked her.

 

“Well, let's just say I hope he's a natural tenor because otherwise this is gonna sound _terrible,_ ” said Rinoa. Ignoring Squall's pushes, she keened her ears toward the stage and narrowed her eyes too. Quistis held her breath, because if anyone would recognize Seifer outside a jackass setting, it would probably be Rinoa. Anxiety made it impossible for Quistis to feel anything other than dread that the jig would soon be up, but nobody said anything as Seifer sang. And he did sound good. His voice was smooth, pleasant, and had just a bit of an interesting burl to it that drew a listener's attention.

 

“Whoa,” Selphie gasped as Seifer hit the chorus and Irvine nodded in acknowledgement, looking impressed. “That's a _high_ note.”

 

“And he just floated on it, did you hear that?” Irvine sighed, shaking his head. “Effortless. That is _way_ harder than it sounds.”

 

“It sounds like he got kicked in the balls,” Squall said flatly, making Irvine laugh. “Let's _go.”_

 

“Wait a minute,” said Rinoa, holding up her hand and looking suspicious. Quistis suppressed a shiver of foreboding.

 

“Ah, nuts,” muttered Zell as soon as he saw Quistis standing by the table. Immediately he zoomed over to the bar, determined to wait out the storm, and as he attempted to flag the bartender down, he looked up at the stage to observe the new guy singing. He sounded pretty good, but there was something about him that sounded familiar too.

 

“ _Hang on a tic,”_ thought Zell, an audio memory tickling his brain. He'd been a student at the Garden since age 12 and though he'd always gone home to Balamb on the weekends, he'd lived his weeks in the student dorms, sharing a hall with Squall and Seifer. Even before becoming the head of the Disciplinary Committee, Seifer had usually had his door open and occasionally his music on, which meant that over the years, Zell had had ample opportunity to hear Seifer singing along to whatever was on his computer. And... _“No. Impossible. No... Hell NO...”_

 

But the more his mind screamed no, the more Zell's body tensed with recognition, and when the singer onstage changed from a dark-skinned man with red hair to a fair one with blond hair, Zell clutched his head and nearly started screaming.

 

Meanwhile Rinoa was thinking of something that had happened nearly two years ago.

 

“ _Oh calm down, we're not going to get arrested,” said Rinoa as she got into her father's expensive towncar. Seifer still hesitated on the passenger side, looking around in a way that for any other person in existence would be 'nervously'. “Seifer, get in the car!”_

 

“ _What's the rush?” He asked, nevertheless getting inside._

 

“ _I don't want to lose my anger buzz,” said Rinoa, making Seifer laugh in understanding. With a noise that was half a purr and half a growl, the towncar came to life with a nearly tangible noise of quality that made Rinoa grin. Seifer looked impressed until Rinoa started to drive, upon which time Seifer started to look pained. “What?”_

 

“ _Has anyone told you that you suck at driving?”_

 

“ _No I don't!”_

 

“ _You're grinding the gears,” he said, wincing as she shifted. “How can you not hear that? And a car like this isn't supposed to lurch!”_

 

“ _Oh, shut up! Do_ you _wanna drive?”_

 

“ _Hell yes,” said Seifer immediately. “Hand it over.”_

 

_They swapped places in the middle of the street, Seifer flipping off someone who protested their change by honking loudly. In a few minutes they were driving again and Rinoa could grudgingly admit that Seifer was a pretty good driver, to the point where she couldn't feel him shifting gears unless she was listening and feeling for it._

 

“ _They teach you a lot of stuff in B-Garden, huh?” She asked, leaning against the window._

 

“ _Yep.”_

 

 _Despite their earlier spat, Rinoa smiled at Seifer. At 17 he was more confident than most adults she knew and while it occasionally bordered on overwhelming arrogance (as opposed to normal arrogance; that was his default state as far as Rinoa could tell), the ease with which he adapted to every situation filled her with envy. And he was so handsome thanks to a combination of good genes and whatever they were feeding them in the Gardens, because_ damn. _Rinoa lingered on the lines of Seifer's arms, the planes of his chest and stomach, and found herself gazing at his lap. They were on a stretch of straight road and he did have uncommonly good control of the car. Hmm..._

 

“Calm down, girl. It's only been ten days.” _Rinoa nevertheless licked her lips, spacing out a little._ “Oh gosh, I need something else to concentrate on...”

 

“ _I'm gonna turn on the radio,” said Rinoa, reaching out and fiddling with the town car's controls. Seifer glanced at her but didn't say anything until she started flipping channels. Rinoa's usual way of finding channels (the old man never put in presets) was poking onto each clear channel and listening for about three seconds before moving on, which allowed her to sift through commercials and things she didn't like fairly quickly. She had a pretty good ear for music which everyone liked to attribute to her mom, but if Rinoa was being honest with herself, the old man had actually shaped more of her music tastes. Some of the only times they could ever be in the same room was when he was listening to some of the old jazz records that he and Julia had bonded over..._

 

“ _Was a time, I was his only, only, only one,_

_Now I'm the sad and lonely one, lordy_

_Was I gay, oh lord was I gay_

_'Til today, that man went away_

_Now he's gone and we're through_

_Am I blue?”_

 

 _Rinoa looked at Seifer in shock, who was singing quietly under his breath to the music... Which was an instrumental version of the song. As Rinoa stared, Seifer automatically transposed into his range, slid easily from his upper to lower registers, easing over counts in his own interpretation. Clearly he was very familiar with the song and even besides that, had a well-rounded, pleasant voice that was somewhere between baritone and tenor. “_ Wow,” _thought Rinoa as a shiver of arousal and admiration shivered in her chest._

 

“ _How do you know this song?” She asked in shock._

 

“ _It was on a TV show I liked,” said Seifer with a chuckle. He looked at her sidelong, grinning. “What? You didn't think I could sing?”_

 

Back in the present, Rinoa looked at Quistis's boyfriend suspiciously as his dark brown hair lightened to blond and only semi-suspecting something of the sort prevented her from yelling aloud when a scar drew itself like a crack in a jar over his forehead. Yes, Seifer could sing back then. And he could still sing now. Rinoa looked at Quistis, who had gone pale and tight.

 

“ _Well, well, well, Quistis... Didn't think you had it in you!”_ Rinoa thought with a disbelieving little laugh. Her estimation of Quistis mostly doing things properly and by the book went out the window so hard that the figurative glass vaporized. _“No wonder your 'buff red mage' is a secret.”_

 

Of course there were problems, big ones. But in this moment, all Rinoa wanted to do was laugh aloud from the look of half-terror on her friend's face and also from sheer relief. Seifer was alive. He had gotten away from Ultimecia. And he was even doing well.

 

“I think we're going to stay,” said Rinoa, lacing her hands and grinning at Quistis as the older girl turned pale, and completely ignoring how Selphie and Irvine gave her strange looks. Squall hunkered down in his seat, dread roiling in the pit of his stomach. One way or another, he had the feeling this was going to end in fireworks.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Happy Overeating Day! May you all have gotten enough of the thing(s) you wanted with a minimum of awkward family drama.

 

/\

 

Seifer had an ex who had parents and was well-off enough to have a little TV in her room. So they would watch cartoons and what before things ended. Anyway, that is how Seifer first heard 'Am I Blue'. Though truthfully I was thinking of Kevin Conroy as Batman singing the song, the version Seifer is singing in the car is Annette Henshaw's interpretation, which is springier and more technically complicated. I absolutely love it, if that's not obvious.

 

/\

 

Hope all the sudden POV switching wasn't too confusing. I'm trying to figure out how to write this type of thing without rehashing the same event from three different angles.

 

/\/\/\


	18. Chapter 18

Horrified beyond his ability to describe and not wanting to be anywhere near the pit of awkwardness the evening was threatening to turn into, Zell hovered by the bar. The busy bartender noted his frozen posture in an otherwise busy place and started snickering.

 

“Now that looks like an 'on the house',” said the bartender to Zell, who looked at him with his face still frozen in shock. “Hey, we _are_ called 'The Horrible Revelation'. Any time you have one of your own, you get one on the house as long as it's a story we ain't heard before. So?”

 

“...My big sister's dating my friggin' archenemy,” said Zell, squeezing his eyes shut. “And he's singing her a love song right now! I didn't know they were still at it!”

 

“Haha, 'at it',” chortled the bartender as Zell realized his phrasing and whined. “Well, maybe not right now. But soon! It's alright, bud, happens more often than you think.”

 

“...where's my drink?”

 

“I said 'if I haven't heard the story before', didn't I?”

 

Zell mulled over that. “Okay, well... He bullied me all throughout my childhood.” As the bartender shrugged, Zell suddenly smirked. “And he's sorta my big brother too.”

 

Now the bartender stared at him. “...so your big sister is _dating_ your big brother?”

 

“Yyyep.”

 

“What the fuck is wrong with your family, dude?” demanded the bartender even as he mixed up a shot that looked and smelled like the essence of death.

 

“Oh, don't even get me STARTED on my parents!” Zell half-shouted, eyes flashing.

 

Back at the table, Squall made one last ditch effort to cut off any potential problems. Grasping Rinoa's arm and leaning over, he whispered in her ear.

 

“Let's go,” he murmured, his eyes on Quistis's somewhat panicked expression. “Unless you wanna out them?”

 

“I'm not gonna out them, I just wanna check up on them,” Rinoa hissed back. “And _look_ at Seifer.”

 

“Look?”

 

Squall wasn't a sorceress. He wouldn't get it. Rinoa turned to look at him, and as close as they were, she could see the subtle blue-white glow from around her dark eyes reflected in his shades. That was definitely a new thing since becoming a sorceress.

 

“Yes,” said Rinoa firmly. “I want to _look_ at him. Make sure he's okay.”

 

“Can't you do that from here?”

 

“No, he has to be close by.”

 

“ _There she is,”_ thought Seifer as he continued to sing. To his annoyance, Quistis wasn't even looking at him; instead she was having some sort of impassioned face-off with a group of people he didn't recognize, which seemed so unlike her that he wondered if he was looking at the right person. But he knew the curve of her back and the tight way she stood when she was unhappy, which made him wonder who the group of people were. SeeDs? They had to be. Unconsciously Seifer tensed up, but he took the opportunity to check his bracelets, which were both secured and functional. And the coat he was wearing would keep cameras from spotting him.

 

“ _Don't take off the coat and you'll be fine, Almasy. Calm down. She's not gonna rat you out. At the very least, it'll cause shit for her too. And at the best... Well, worry about that later.”_

 

When he was finished singing, Seifer barely noticed the applause and instead stepped off the stage with a certain wariness loosening his joints. Inside his coat, along his sides, were the long knives made from the remnants of Hyperion. Worse came to worst, he could murder his way out but had the feeling Quistis really wouldn't like that. At the same time, she'd probably like getting stood up even less. What the fuck was happening? He needed more information and unfortunately there was only one way to get it.

 

“Oh, he's coming over!” said Selphie, pointing. Quistis felt the icy finger of fear drag down her spine and when she turned to look, Seifer was indeed heading over for all of them. That _idiot._ Why did he always have to charge in headfirst? Why?

 

“Hi sweetie,” he said when he got in range, making Quistis just barely stop herself from clenching her hands into fists. Squall and Rinoa reacted very differently to seeing Seifer Almasy use the word 'sweetie' in a non-asshole context; Rinoa smiled, touched that he felt so affectionate towards Quistis, while all expression dropped off Squall's face as his brain tried to compute and failed. Selphie and Irvine just grinned.

 

There wasn't time to do anything other than give Seifer a warning, so Quistis went up to him at once, smiling like nothing was wrong.

 

“What's going on?” He asked her softly when she slid her arms around his neck without hesitation.

 

“It's the old gang,” she said, making Seifer frown and then stiffen in shock. “Calm down!”

 

“Calm down, my ass! What the hell?” Seifer hissed through his teeth even as he smiled broadly at his enemies. Now that he was looking for them, he saw them easily through their disguises. “I thought it was just gonna be us tonight.”

 

“That’s what I thought too and then they followed me,” Quistis murmured back, pulling him close. Seifer resisted, adrenaline making him tense, so she went up on her toes instead. “Play along. If you leave unexpectedly, they're going to want to know why. I have the feeling that Rinoa knows and Squall's already suspicious so let's not make things worse.”

 

"Fan-fucking-tastic!"

 

“Now give me a kiss before they realize we’re fighting.”

 

“This is not anywhere near fighting,” he promised in a soft growl, but gave her a nice enough kiss on the cheek. Lifting his head, Quistis watched as the semi-hostile lines of his face smoothed to become more genuinely pleasant as he looked at the others. He was apparently quite the actor.

 

"Hiii!" Selphie waved energetically. "Have a seat, stranger!"

 

Now Seifer knew the sensible thing to do would be to run, but resentment simmered under his skin. These fuckers were horning in on a date night he'd been looking forward to months, and _he_ was supposed to leave? Hell no! Besides, everybody was looking at him like he was someone else, which... Was true. Under heavy disguise, he effectively _was_ someone else. And hadn't it been fun in Dollet to pretend to be someone who hadn't destroyed his life in monumental ways?

 

 _"One drink,"_ thought Seifer. _"Just one drink and then I'm out."_

 

“Sure,” Seifer said, holding his hand out to Selphie like he’d never seen her before. “Though it’s, uh… Wow. I mean, I know Quistis is famous and all, but it didn’t really hit me until just now. You really don't mind if I take a seat?”

 

"Of course not!"

 

No, no, no! Why was he staying? _Why was he making more potential for trouble?_ Beaming to everyone’s faces, Quistis slid her arm around Seifer’s waist, dropped her hand down, and then pinched his ass as hard as she could, which from a whip user was very hard indeed. Seifer hid his yelp of pain by laughing in a nervous manner and rubbing the back of his neck as pain shot down the back of his leg. _Damn._ From the intensity of the throbbing, Seifer knew he was going to have a bruise.

 

_"Well FINE then. I'm gonna stay for TWO drinks now!"_

 

“So what's your name?” Irvine asked, all friendliness and charm; there was no indication that he felt any other way.

 

“Zero,” said Seifer, pronouncing the name with a slight accent so it came out as 'ZEH-ro'. “I'm Estharian.”

 

At that, Selphie and Irvine both looked confused, which made Seifer wonder what the hell they were seeing him as.

 

“So how’d you two meet?” Irvine asked, gesturing for Seifer to sit down at their booth. Rinoa scooted over, shoving Squall with her hip until he grudgingly made way.

 

“We met in Dollet,” Seifer said, sliding over next to Rinoa as Quistis eased in next to him. His arm went around her waist, fingers resting on the top of her thigh. It was very familiar and for a second Quistis froze, but when she didn't pinch him or otherwise push away, Seifer relaxed with a little surge of triumph. He actually smiled as he said, “I’m an unbonded freelancer.”

 

Selphie and Squall both tightened, while Irvine’s pleasant smile became rigid. Rinoa looked around in confusion, sensing the immediate change in energy.

 

“Uhh… What does that mean?” Rinoa asked, looking at Seifer.

 

“It means he takes whatever jobs he can get,” said Squall, his eyes hard. “As long as they pay what he wants.”

 

“Isn’t that the same as SeeD?” Rinoa asked, tilting her head.

 

“No,” said Quistis, Squall, and Selphie all at the same time. Seifer smirked.

 

“The unbonded don't follow International Combat Specialist regulations and they don't answer to anyone,” said Squall, looking at Seifer with eyes that seemed dark with thunder. “Any time you hear someone complaining about mercenaries, it's usually because of some unbonded freelancer who's done something stupid, unprofessional, or unethical. Sometimes all three. In the bloody business we call them 'dirty mercs'.”

 

“You’re acting like I harvest kids’ organs,” Seifer retorted, his voice unconsciously flattening the way it did whenever he was fighting with Squall. “As it happens, I’ve got enough of a name that I can say ‘no’ to jobs I don’t like.”

 

“Oh yeah? What’s the name?” Selphie asked, her voice still unimpressed.

 

“I ain’t making it that easy,” said Seifer with a look of imminent challenge. “I know how you SeeDs feel about the unbonded.”

 

“Which then begs the question, how the hell did you two get together?” Irvine asked in a deliberately light, casual voice, looking at Quistis as he spoke.

 

“…Well, we met in a café,” said Quistis, smiling half out of pretense and half from memory. At once the tension eased as everyone realized what the social setting was and Quistis kept talking, relieved even as she spoke shyly. “He was reading something I liked, so we struck up a conversation. I didn’t find out about his vocation until we went on a hike and he showed off his combat prowess.”

 

“And by then it was too late,” said Seifer with a smirk, and just because he could, he leaned over and kissed Quistis on the temple. She blushed so prettily that he was tempted to do it again. “She was stuck with me.”

 

“How long have you guys been going out?” Selphie asked, putting her cheeks in her hands.

 

“It feels like years,” said Seifer, making Quistis chuckle. “It just works, you know? Feels good.”

 

“Quisty?” Selphie asked, looking at her.

 

“Umm... Oh...” Quistis laughed nervously, unsure about how setting down a hard timeline would play out. So she deflected. “I don't remember the exact date. I'm sure there's a receipt from that cafe somewhere...”

 

“So you guys read, you hike... Very healthy activities,” said Irvine, making Seifer and Quistis chuckle. “What'd you do for fun?”

 

“That is fun,” said Seifer, sounding mildly offended. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone you can read around? Most girls I've dated just want to talk all the time or they get super pissed if you're not 100% there.”

 

“Still, it _is_ pretty weird to read on a date,” said Rinoa archly, knowing exactly the incident Seifer was referring to.

 

“Not when you're in a bookstore,” he retorted, looking back at her.

 

“Maybe she thought it was a short trip.”

 

“It _was_ a short trip.”

 

“Really? Because you seem like you'd stay in there for _hours.”_

 

“She could have left any time she wanted instead of sitting around and getting pissed about it!”

 

Rinoa opened her mouth to argue more, but Squall put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him. He knew she was leaning toward Seifer because she was arguing with him, but he still didn't like how close they were. Rinoa looked at him in surprise and something about the look in his eyes made her flush slightly and smile apologetically. Quistis's method of reining Seifer in was considerably less gentle: she pinched his unbruised buttock and this time did not let go until she saw him tapping the table in a subtle but unmistakable “ring out” gesture. His face managed to stay amazingly calm, though his eyes did get a little wild with suppressed pain. She felt a little bad when she let go and his eyes flicked to hers immediately, but to her relief he seemed more considering and wary than irritated. Then again, if one looked at Seifer's entire life, pain had never been much of a deterrent to anything.

  
 

“Y'all take your books _seriously,”_ said Irvine, very amused.

 

“In a volatile childhood, your only stability is fiction,” said Seifer, leaning back in his seat. When Selphie looked at him questioningly, Seifer said, “My mom left when I was about seven and just came back recently. I didn't get along with my dad for a long time, so he quit paying attention to me and focused on my other siblings. Especially this one crybaby of a younger brother who—”

 

Seifer jerked as someone kicked him underneath the table. He was fairly sure it had been either Squall or Rinoa since Quistis apparently had a thing for pinching his ass in un-fun ways. His skin was still throbbing from earlier.

 

“...Who cries less now that he has a girlfriend,” said Seifer, deciding not to care. As pain flared up his leg again, he decided that Squall was the one kicking him. Bitch had hit _exactly_ the same place. Ow. It had actually been Rinoa.

 

“How many siblings do you have?” Irvine asked, interested.

 

“Eight,” said Seifer after a quick mental count. As Irvine and Selphie exclaimed in shock, he said, “One older brother, three younger brothers, two older sisters, and two younger sisters. Our parents were... _Loving_ people.”

 

The three who were in the know had to fight hard to keep from laughing, which Squall did by pretending to drink, Rinoa by grinning until her face hurt, and Quistis by deliberately relaxing her facial muscles and nodding politely.

 

“Dang,” Irvine said obliviously, which made everyone except him and Selphie nearly lose their cool.

 

“So you've met his parents then?” Selphie asked Quistis, so innocent that Quistis didn't realize the trap.

 

“Yes,” she said, and then froze as Selphie's eyes gleamed with interest.

 

“Ooh, so it sounds _seeerious,”_ she said in a singsongy way, pointing at the two of them playfully.

 

Seifer just smiled. It was not his jackass smile, which made Squall look at him in surprise. As Quistis blushed, Seifer picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles, looking into her eyes fondly.

 

“I've haven't been able to stop thinking about her since we started dating,” he said, his voice in the softer, warmer register he used when it was just the two of them alone. “It's definitely serious to me.”

 

“...Me too,” Quistis said softly, feeling a smile warm her lips. And it was true, even with all the deception and necessary subterfuge. The intensity of the affection that suddenly swelled in her made her embarrassed and she suddenly became very interested in the water rings on the table, unaware that her face was bright red and she was statue-stiff with awkwardness. Her friends had the good grace not to laugh at her, though they did grin. Seifer grinned too, but then in his usual carefree fashion kissed her on the temple, not caring who saw. Quistis twitched, but when Seifer put his hand on hers under the table and gave her fingers a questioning squeeze, she squeezed back and did not let go. It was unspeakably nice.

 

“So if you’re freelance, you must have your eye on the 5-million-gil prize, huh?” asked Irvine, making both Quistis and Seifer look at him immediately. “You know Quisty and _him_ used to date, right?”

 

“If that's what you can call a flash in the pan,” said Seifer, making Quistis look at him strangely. When he caught her look, he said, “What? It was two weeks, wasn't it?”

 

“More like a month. And it was a very important time,” she said, not sure where he was going with this.

 

“Well yeah, but then he turned into _the worst thing ever,_ ” said Seifer, his eyes darkening. “It flared up and it flared out. You shouldn't... Well. I hope you didn't cry too much over that asshole when he wasn't right.”

 

“It's because he wasn't right that I hope he's doing better, wherever he is,” said Quistis, making Seifer's mouth quirk humorlessly.

 

“Yeah well...” Seifer sighed heavily, remembering the role he had to play. “When I find that Seifer Almasy, I’m gonna kick his ass all over the continent.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Selphie was amused. “You think you can?”

 

“I’m a better man than he was,” said Seifer, his face becoming serious. “Sure he showed some promise before he fucked it all up, but anybody stupid enough to lose his head that hard _and_ break my girl's heart... Oh, when I get him, I may just kill him.”

 

“Really?” Squall asked, watching as Seifer's face darkened, his expression going tight with self-loathing. He'd never thought Seifer was capable of making such a face.

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, looking at Squall sidelong. “Really.”

 

“ _Does his shoulder still hurt?”_ Seifer wondered. _“He always seemed just a little slower to me when we fought back then...”_

 

“Stop,” said Quistis, making Seifer look at her. She squeezed his hand, looking deeply into his phosphorescent eyes. The gold rings in them were burning brightly, a testament to his distaste of the past, making her wonder again just how much his forced servitude had changed him.

 

Seifer exhaled hard, but nodded as the tension eased from his body. “I guess I shouldn’t talk shop anyway,” he said in a lighter voice. “Sorry.”

 

“You’re fine,” said Selphie, though her eyes were bright emerald chips of consideration. “We’re the ones who brought it up. So how long are you in town for?”

 

“As long as I want,” said Seifer, smirking. “A perk of being my own boss.”

 

“Oh that’ll be nice,” said Rinoa, looking at Quistis. “You two can spend the whole week together then.”

 

Seifer looked surprised, but then he looked at Quistis and just smiled. It wasn't a leer either. It was an actual smile that offered the sort of intimacy that most people spent their entire lives looking for and few ever found. Quistis started blushing so hard her face hurt. She'd been planning to tell him about her weeklong vacation later in the night, but somehow hearing her plans articulated by someone else made her feel... Vulnerable.

 

“Where'd Zell run off to?” Irvine asked, making everyone glance at him. “He should be here too.”

 

Squall lifted his head, pulling down the shades of his disguise slightly. “I think he's at the bar. Oh.”

 

“Oh what?”

 

“He just fell onto the ground.”

 

“What?!” Selphie yelped.

 

“Nuts,” sighed Irvine. “Hey Zero, will you help me with him?”

 

“...sure,” said Seifer, grinning openly.

 

“And then they never told me I was adopted,” Zell ranted as he attempted to struggle off the floor. Alcohol pounded in his head, making him feel vaguely nauseous with every movement, but he'd been hit by Pain spells before and could deal. He _could._ “And now they're acting all fucking PISSED like they're the victims, like... Like... _My whole past is GONE_ and alllll they can think of is how I'm not grateful and—”

 

“Okay, buddy” said Irvine, who had slipped through the crowd while Zell was still trying to get to his feet, a bemused Seifer in his wake. “Yeah, you've have enough. Get up, man. Come on.”

 

“It serves them right I'm never gonna give 'em grandchildren,” half-yelled Zell to no one in particular, waving his hands in the air as Irvine hauled him bodily onto his feet. “Joke's on them, I'm never gonna fuckin' do it _BECAUSE I'M GAY!_ I'm gay and tired of hiding it! _”_

 

Irvine dropped Zell in shock. Seifer stared at the struggling martial artist on the floor for a solid three seconds before laughing so hard that he had to grab onto the counter for support.

 

“It'd friggin' serve them right if I brought home a guy and just had the nastiest sex in the house, over every flat surface I could find,” Zell said furiously as he dragged himself onto his knees. Irvine was still staring at Zell like he'd never seen him before, so Seifer took pity on the martial artist and picked him up by the back of his hoodie, grunting a bit when he was forced to use two hands instead of one. He kept forgetting Zell was essentially solid muscle in a way that few other fighters were. Zell yelped when Seifer pulled him up and turned to stare at him, and Seifer's amusement abruptly stilled when he saw the hard stare of recognition in Zell's eyes. He jerked when Zell turned around and grabbed his lapels, and then staggered as Zell nearly pulled them both off center.

 

“Yooou,” Zell hissed, swaying drunkenly. “I don't like yooou.”

 

“Feeling's mutual,” Seifer retorted, just barely managing to keep the 'chicken-wuss' inside his mouth.

 

“I wanna punch you but I can't,” said Zell, slowly thumping Seifer in the chest. “Because she scares the _shit_ out of me. She turned into a leopard, man! She could eat me.”

 

“God, you're toasted,” said Seifer, unable to keep himself from thinking about seeing Zell the morning after the SeeD Ball, hungover and staggering all over the bathroom. “You can't handle your booze at all, can you?”

 

“Fuck yooou, Sei—”

 

“GET IN LINE,” Seifer shouted just in the nick of time, which made Zell turn an alarming shade of red.

 

“I wouldn't fuck you with somebody else's dick!” Zell shouted, jabbing his finger into Seifer's chest hard enough to make the taller blond wince. And then he started cursing, which made Irvine's mouth fall open in shock and Seifer look at Zell in growing admiration. He was not nearly the boy scout Seifer had thought before if he had _that_ sort of vocabulary. It was so coarse that it almost bordered on a foreign language or poetry, and by the time Zell had to stop for a breath, a shocked crowd had formed around him and Seifer. It was then that Seifer remembered hearing somewhere that Zell's adopted father was a sailor. That explained the potty mouth.

 

“You know what,” said Zell, lifting his head abruptly. “Fuck it anyway.”

 

“Whoa!” Irvine yelled as Zell took a swing at Seifer, who just barely managed to dodge. At the first hint of real aggression, the humor dropped off Seifer's face and transformed his expression that of an alert hunter, and the second swing that Zell took sailed harmlessly by his face with plenty of room to spare. Rinoa and Selphie goggled in horror while Quistis bolted from her seat. Squall looked at the stunned, unmoving girls on either side of him before sliding out of his seat, slithering under the table, and rolling to his escape.

 

“Stop! Stop!” Irvine yelled, grabbing onto Zell's hoodie from behind. “You're gonna get us kicked out, man!”

 

“No! Let go! I'm gonna fuckin' punch his face in for everything he did!”

 

“Yeah dude!” cheered the bartender, who apparently didn't have enough to do. “That's what he gets for banging your sister!”

 

“Wait, what?” Seifer looked at Zell in amusement. “ _That's_ what you wanna punch me for?”

 

“Among other things,” Zell growled, visibly swelling with hostility. Then he yelled as Irvine wrapped both arms around his waist and picked him up off the floor.

 

“Sorry, 'scuse us, bye!” Irvine shouted aloud before dropping his voice to hiss, “Dammit, Zell! What the hell is wrong with you?”

 

“Put me down! Put me down! That's Sei—”

 

“See ya later!” Seifer shouted again, his skin electrifying with the last-second timing. “Maybe when you're not drunk off your ass!”

 

“What did you do?” Quistis demanded as she came up to him, half her gaze on Irvine as he carried Zell outside.

 

“Nothing,” said Seifer, holding up his hands when Quistis looked at him flatly. “I swear. I didn't even say anything before he started freaking out.”

 

“So he _knows_ you, then,” said Squall, coming up to the two blondes. Seifer's lips thinned and he nodded curtly, making Squall fold his arms. “This is a problem.”

 

“I'll talk to him,” said Quistis with a sigh. Looking at Squall and Seifer, she said, “Can I trust you two not to hurt each other when my back's turned?”

 

“Aww, when we have ever done that?” Seifer taunted.

 

Squall rolled his eyes, but seemed to have the faintest smile on his face as he said, “Whatever.”

 

“ _Boys,”_ thought Quistis with well-remembered irritation as she turned around and went out after Zell and Irvine. After three paces she looked over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Seifer putting Squall in a headlock just for old time's sake, but they were both standing in exactly the same position, Seifer smiling and Squall just looking at her flatly. She turned back around and kept walking. Drama done with, the crowd dispersed, allowing Seifer and Squall to talk in relative security.

 

“So, this is fun,” said Seifer to Squall, who half-glared up at him. “Gotta say, I thought you'd be a lot more pissed at me.”

 

“There's no point in being angry at you,” said Squall, making Seifer look at him strangely. “The past doesn't change. Everybody's still dead. And I don't know how to make you pay yet.”

 

Seifer exhaled and looked off to the side. Somehow this lack of hostility from Squall was more disturbing than a thousand duels, making Seifer want to hit the brunet just to get a real reaction out of him. He swore Squall pulled this passive-aggressive shit on purpose, and the real kicker was that Squall was only saying aloud what Seifer had been thinking for months. Fucker.

 

“Yeah, death seems too good for me, doesn't it?” Seifer sneered softly, nevertheless keeping an eye on Squall's expression.

 

“That's not what I said,” said Squall, making Seifer look away. “...But your mind went there for a reason.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“The Sei... The guy I know doesn't take the easy way out of anything.”

 

“Yeah, that's me, isn't it? Fucking running into walls, over and over.”

 

“Making your own path,” said Squall, making Seifer glance at him. “No matter what it takes. Are you really a dirty merc?”

 

“Can't exactly register at the nearest guild, can I?” Seifer's lip curled as Squall silently shook his head. “Oh what the fuck else am I supposed to do, huh?”

 

“Anything you like,” said Squall quietly. “You're free.”

 

Seifer opened his mouth and closed it. Then he looked at Squall more closely and took a step back, his eyes narrowing.

 

“You did something, didn't you?”

 

“I sent a team out for appearances' sake,” said Squall, making Seifer snarl softly. “And to keep you sharp. You should know them. We had class together.”

 

“Oh for fuck's sake—”

 

“Calm down. Their last check-in was in Timber,” said Squall, making Seifer stare at him. “And if you behave yourself, I won't tell them to look elsewhere. Quistis hasn't smiled like that in months and I'm not going to be the one who takes that away from her.”

 

Seifer looked at Squall for a long time, eyes narrowed, and Squall started to bristle. He knew Seifer well enough to see that Seifer was not sure of what to do or how to act in this moment, and while back in the Garden this usually meant a 50% chance of getting smacked, now Squall had the feeling that Seifer's perplexity was of a more annoying and personal nature.

 

“ _I'm not a robot,”_ thought Squall irritably. _“I know how to care about people. I'm not the same person I was a year ago.”_

 

“Let's get a drink,” said Seifer abruptly, making Squall blink. When Squall stared at him, Seifer tilted his head mockingly and said, “What? Don't tell me you're still sticking to punch and lemonade?”

 

“Shut up,” growled Squall, knowing full well that Seifer had quite the tolerance. Squall had always been too busy to break any of the rules, but Seifer would bend them into knots to the full extent of his creativity, and his propensity for misbehavior had served him well as the head of the DC; who better to know what the deliquents did than a former one? In any case, Squall remembered seeing full bottles and beers go into Seifer's room and empty bottles leave it. Frankly Squall was surprised that Seifer had never once been written up for a contraband citation.

 

But now Squall had some experience drinking too. And while he knew his tolerance wasn't the best, he could definitely handle more than 'punch and lemonade'. Without a word, Squall stalked to the bar and ignored Seifer snickering as the taller man followed him there. A competitive fire lit in Squall's chest, not unlike when he and Seifer were about to spar. Fine. So be it. Squall was fairly sure this was a fight he wasn't going to win, but like hell if he wasn't even going to try. By the time Seifer managed to eel over to the bar, Squall had already ordered two shots of something that looked expensive and probably tasted like Firaga distilled, and the glasses arrived just as Seifer managed to find a seat next to Squall. His eyebrows rose and Squall's irritation grew as the slow, broad smile across Seifer's face did.

 

“En garde,” the brunet said shortly, picking up his shot glass.

 

“You're asking for a world of hurt,” said Seifer jovially as he picked up his own shot. They clinked glasses and drank, and as the liquid manifestation of pure fire spilled down his throat, Squall knew he was going to regret his choices in the morning. But...

 

“We'll see about that,” said Squall, managing not to cough as he set his empty shotglass down with a clack, and Seifer just grinned at him. Something about that cocky expression eased a knot that had been tight in Squall's chest ever since the end of Time Compression, and as Seifer waved down the bartender for another round, Squall found himself smiling just a little. This felt like the return of familiar ground after so long, and from the way Seifer eased into his seat, he felt much the same way.

 

“If you throw up on me, I'm gonna kick your ass,” said Seifer to Squall as the second round arrived.

 

“If I throw up on you, it'll be on purpose.”

 

Seifer's brows rose. “A comeback! Finally the little lion has some bite. Did Rinoa actually manage to make a man out of you?”

 

Squall scowled. He knew Seifer didn't know about the very slow physical pace of his relationship, but it _felt_ like he did. But rather than go the usual routes of deferrment and explanation, Squall decided to up the stakes.

 

“As much as Quistis has _you_ whipped,” he retorted, and to his surprise Seifer just laughed.

 

“Here's to love,” said Seifer, raising his shot glass, and all expression fell off Squall's face. Seifer laughed again. “What?”

 

“You're serious, aren't you?”

 

“When am I not?”

 

“Do you really want me to say it?”

 

Seifer snickered. Then his expression sobered slightly and he said, “It's not easy to find someone who wants to be around you, warts and all. I'm as serious as she is, and I think we both know how she gets.”

 

Squall mulled over this for a moment. He felt like there was something wrong about Seifer using Quistis as a mirror for his emotions, but if he was honest, he did the same thing with Rinoa. Oh yes, the soft explosion of adoration and happiness Squall had around her was still quite strong, but when she looked back at him and let him know she felt exactly the same, then nothing else compared. Especially since Squall had conditioned himself to live life alone and had never once let himself think that someone would value him so highly for something more than combat. At the risk of sounding cliché, Rinoa made Squall feel like he was actually alive.

 

In any case, Squall had seen the way that Seifer and Quistis looked at each other. While it seemed a bit more competitive and punchy than what he and Rinoa had, it wasn't that different at its core. As Squall looked at Seifer and noticed the more sedate expression on the man's face, he couldn't help but think that this was very different from all the other times he had seen Seifer strutting around with a girlfriend. There was no ego on his face right now, none of the usual “look how this girl enhances my reputation”; just a sort of contentment over a core of worry about the future, which Squall understood very well. But he didn't know how to communicate that, so Squall picked up his second shot, nodded at Seifer, and knocked it back. This time he did cough and Seifer laughed at him, but Squall didn't care. This was still better than being enemies.

 

“Round three?”

 

“...You're on.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Zell's swearing montage is directly inspired by Kevin Hart's rant about taking his swearing liberties with his teacher too far, as well as all the long, elaborate insult trains that I've witnessed in martial arts movies.

 

/\

 

And I know that in the Garden, Rinoa spends her free time in the library reading, but I figure she's in there as much for social interaction as she is for the books—drifting around like that has to be boring as hell and here's a whole new environment of people she's never met before who've had experiences she's never dreamed of. Whereas Seifer grabs a book, parks himself in a corner (or just sits in the aisle, depending on what age he is) and doesn't move for anyone or anything once he finds something he likes. And then people trip over him and he gets mad because nobody's watching where they're going.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	19. Chapter 19

Outside, Quistis had tracked Irvine and Zell to an alley, where Zell was ranting furiously to the wall, a bit of para-magic slapped over his head to ensure his silence. Irvine stood in the mouth of the alley, arms folded and expression flat.

 

“What's wrong with Zell?” Quistis asked in case Zell hadn't spilled the beans to Irvine.

 

“Oh nothing,” drawled Irvine and Quistis pre-emptively tensed as Irvine rolled his head over to look at her, saying, “Just found out his big sister's dating his friggin' archenemy.”

 

“He's not who he was back then,” said Quistis, unable to meet the sniper's eyes. As her mouth seemed to go dry, she managed to get out, “He's who he was before. The one I fell in love with.”

 

“Quisty, I ain't judging you,” said Irvine, straightening. “Lord knows I know about impossible affection. But like... Don't tell Selphie, yeah?”

 

“Of course not,” said Quistis even as a stab of panic went through her insides. _Selphie._ In her joy, she had completely forgotten about Selphie and her very good reasons to hate Seifer forever. Well, not so much 'forgotten' as 'deliberately ignored'. Everyone deserved to be happy, didn't they?

 

Irvine looked back at Zell, who was still ranting and raving away, and turned back to Quistis. “You know, ever since Selphie retired, her memories of our childhood have been coming back. You wanna know the ones that hurt her the most? The ones of _that_ guy.”

 

“Why?” Quistis asked, searching her own memories. She had very few of that happy childhood time, probably because she'd started junctioning aggressively at age 10. It hurt her a little, but she was always happy to hear stories from the others. Sometimes all she needed was a reminder before precious pieces of her past came back.

 

“Because they used to be really good friends,” sighed Irvine, sticking his hands in his pockets. “Don't get me wrong, I love Selphie, I always have, but I'll admit that I followed her lead. But she and _that_ guy, they were besties. Do you remember the year we tried to throw Matron a circus?”

 

“Ahhh...” Oh Hyne, she could almost just touch that memory. She remembered something... Lights. Lights taped the ceiling. And... “Oh, yes! I was the lion tamer!”

 

“And you made Squall be the lion,” said Irvine, both of them laughing as a mental image of Squall wearing a 'mane' made out of a fluffy scarf wrapped several times around his head popped up in their minds.

 

“And I had that ribbon on a stick...” Quistis put her hands to her face, her cheeks hurting with smiling. It was _embarrassing,_ remembering how insistent she'd been with Squall... Stand on this chair, jump through this hoop. But he'd done it and not with a lot of prompting. At that age, he seemed to have liked running around on all fours and roaring (well, RAAARing) at people. Matron and Cid had acted suitably scared and impressed, laughing with delight the whole time.

 

“Yeah, yeah...” Irvine chuckled. “Well, Selphie and Seifer decided that they _had_ to have a knife-throwing act.”

 

“What?” Quistis gasped incredulously.

 

“Yep,” said Irvine, grinning broadly. “They raided the kitchen of every sharp pointy object and made me be the target. Personally all I remember is them telling me not to let the apple fall off my head, but Selphie remembers that they couldn't throw worth a damn and Matron came out just as Seifer had a cleaver in both hands and was gonna throw like—” He mimed the gesture, putting both hands behind his head and bending backwards.

 

Quistis laughed even harder. She felt a little bad about it, but obviously everyone had survived intact and Irvine himself was laughing aloud.

 

“Yeah... Good times,” sighed Irvine, swiping at his eyes. “And that's why Selphie wakes up crying sometimes. Because she can't be friends with that boy anymore. She just...can't.”

 

The laughter stilled behind Quistis's lips. Irvine's cornflower blue eyes dropped to the ground as his expression became somber.

 

“Me... Personally...” said Irvine slowly. “I think he had bad luck. Really bad luck. We all loved Matron. He was just in the wrong place, you know?”

 

“I was in that same place,” said Quistis softly, making Irvine look at her sidelong. “I was there too. And I had so much more experience and so much more of a hole in my heart... Sometimes I dream that I tell him to run for it and I stay behind. And then... Well, who knows.”

 

Zell was looking at them now, a bit steadier but no less red in the face, and he pointed furiously at his mouth. Irvine sighed and hit him with Esuna, which took care of the silence and a certain measure of the drunkenness if his straightening stance was any indication.

 

“Now don't you spill the beans,” Irvine warned him. “You know how awkward it could get for everyone.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Zell muttered. Louder to Quistis, he said, “We're lucky you didn't get tapped. I think you would have killed us all. Fast. And easy. I remember how you were in the Battle of the Gardens. Man...” Zell scratched his head under his beanie. “You know... I saw him. At the end, in the castle. When he was running scared from the Sorceress. He _was._ He asked us to kill her. And he got so mad when we told him we couldn't. And remember how he just broke down in Lunatic Pandora? I _want_ to feel sorry for him, I do. I swear. But someone has to hold him responsible, you know? Actually responsible, not what the propaganda says he's responsible for.”

 

“Squall feels the same way,” said Quistis. Zell blinked and then cocked his head at her.

 

“How do you know?”

 

“We talked about it,” said Quistis, folding her arms. “I'm sure it'll come up when they talk too.”

 

“When 'they'...? Oh no. Did you leave the two of them alone together?”

 

“They're not alone. Rinoa and Selphie are still inside,” said Quistis, but Zell was already covering his face in both hands.

 

“Oh my god, they're gonna burn the bar down,” he moaned.

 

“That bad, huh?” asked Irvine with a chuckle; he'd never grown up around the two of them at the peak of their punchy rivalry. “I guess we should get back in there.”

 

So the three of them went back to the bar, and Zell's much changed demeanor convinced the bouncer to let them back inside. Quistis looked around and saw Squall and Seifer sitting at the bar together, which worried her enough that she keened her ears and focused specifically on them. To her enhanced senses, it was like the rest of the bar collectively took a step away from what she was concentrating on, the dull roar dimming to completely incomprehensible background noise.

 

“...no, she hates that,” Seifer was saying to Squall in a low voice. “When she says 'don't buy her a present', _don't buy her a present.”_

 

“But what if—”

 

“No, listen to me,” said Seifer, tapping an empty shot glass on the counter. There was one in Squall's hand too, which boded ill considering Squall's alcohol tolerance. “Rinoa _hates_ being disrespected. Too many years of that from her old man. Trust me, do _not_ buy her a present for New Year if she specifically says she doesn't want one. And stop taking dating advice from Zell, he doesn't know what he's doing.”

 

“And you do?” Squall asked challengingly.

 

“I've been with more women than years I've been alive, so yeah I do. You knew that, or you wouldn't be asking me about Rinoa in the first place.”

 

Squall just scowled, which made Quistis shake her head and then rub her eyes to make sure she was looking at the right people.

 

“What?” Zell asked her, still scanning the bar; he was just short enough that he couldn't peer through the gaps in peoples' heads like Quistis could. “Are they killing each other?”

 

“They are behaving themselves very well,” said Quistis, which made Zell look at her incredulously.

 

Meanwhile Irvine was looking around with a frown. “Where'd Rinoa and Selphie go?”

 

“Well, there's Selphie,” said Zell, pointing up at the stage. He waved and when she waved back, he chuckled and said, “I guess the contest is still on. How'd I do?”

 

“7 outta 10,” said Irvine, and when Zell looked at him in affront the sniper said, “Your first high note was painful, man, and you never quite recovered from the awkward. You didn't bring your A-game.”

 

“Shut up, I got surprised,” grumbled Zell, folding his arms as Selphie tapped the mic and smiled.

 

“Hiii,” she said, waving to everyone as a guitar and a simple drumbeat started in the background. “Okay, first I was gonna do a really funny song, but now I think I'd rather sing to my friends. The ones who aren't here anymore. Just to warn you, I might get a little emotional.

 

“You took my hand, you showed me how

You promised me you'd be around

Yeah, that's right.”

 

“Ooh, that is _low_ for Selphie,” said Rinoa, making Quistis and Irvine jump as she appeared at their side.

 

“Shouldn't you be watching them?” Irvine asked, pointing at where Seifer and Squall were sitting at the bar.

 

“What for?” Rinoa shrugged. “They're just talking. What?” She demanded when Zell and Quistis exchanged glances. “Come on, they wouldn't start fighting in the middle of a crowded bar. Right? ...Right?”

 

Quistis and Zell said nothing, both of them recalling multiple instances of fighting regardless of the circumstances—the halls, the cafeteria, the dorms, and even one notable instance that had ended with Dr. Kadowaki taping them together in an effort to make them get along... Or immobilize them to the point of not punching each other. Interpretations of the incident varied and Dr. Kadowaki herself never gave a straight answer. In any case, Quistis hoped for the best, Zell expected the worst, and Irvine said to Rinoa, “They're big boys. I'm sure they can handle themselves.”

 

So for lack of any real danger, the four friends went to an empty high-top table to keep an eye on Squall and Seifer and also to listen to Selphie.

 

“She does sound pretty good,” Zell admitted grudgingly.

 

“Oh Zell,” said Irvine patronizingly, making Zell glance at him. “She's got her bottom in. Do you not hear that resonance?”

 

“Dude, no,” said Zell, shaking his head. “She's in her break. Can you not hear _that?_ ”

 

“Do you know what they're talking about?” Quistis asked Rinoa softly.

 

“You don't?” Rinoa returned, surprised. When Quistis shook her head, Rinoa gave her a quick breakdown of vocal theory that made Quistis nod slowly in understanding. For some reason, she'd always had trouble singing and understanding music. But she kept half an ear on the lyrics of Selphie's song, which made Quistis's heart hurt; obviously she was missing her friends in Trabia, the ones who had died in the missile attacks. Quistis did not consider herself an emotional person most of the time, but the naked grief in Selphie's voice made tears prick her eyes.

 

“If someone said three years from now,

You'd be long gone,

I'd stand up and punch them out!

'Cause they're _all wrong_ and

That last kiss, I'll cherish

Until we meet again!

And time makes it harder

I wish I could remember!

But I'll keep your memory,

You visit me in my sleep,

My darling, who knew?”

 

“I forfeit,” said Zell, shaking his head. “Damn. _Damn.”_

 

Across the bar, Seifer stopped talking and looked down at the polished bar surface, his hand slowly tightening around his empty shot glass.

 

“Fuckin' Selphie,” he growled, thinking he was muttering under his breath.

 

“I thought she sounded pretty good,” said Squall evenly, turning to glance at Seifer over his shoulder as the older man shook his head.

 

“That's not it,” Seifer said, still looking down at the bar. “I just... Do you remember playing pirates when we were kids, Squall?”

 

“Pirates?”

 

“ _I don't like it, Seifer!” Irvine shouted, eyes huge with worry as he stared up at Selphie and Seifer. The two adventurous ones were sitting together on a tree branch about six feet off the ground, Selphie sitting still while Seifer tied her to the branch with a rope they'd stolen out of the hall closet._

 

“ _Go away, Irvine,” Seifer shouted back. “This is IMPORTANT.”_

 

“ _Yeah, what if we get caught by pirates?” Selphie said, making Irvine purse his lips in worry. There had been times when Matron had turned out all the lights and told everyone to be very, very quiet while Cid went up to the roof with binoculars and his gunblade._

 

“ _We need to be able to 'scape,” said Seifer, and Selphie nodded in total agreement._

 

“ _I don't like it!” Irvine shouted, half-crying in panic as Selphie wobbled alarmingly on the branch. A crunch made all three children look around and see Cid approaching the tree, his mouth falling open in shock._

 

“ _Seifer! Selphie!” He ran forward, eyes getting bigger with every step. “What on earth are you doing?”_

 

“ _Playing,” they said in innocent unison._

 

“You win!” Zell shouted as Selphie hopped off the stage and came toward them. When she cupped her hands around her ears, he shouted, “You win!” until she smiled happily. Her eyes seemed overbright and Irvine gave her a hug that no one commented on as being too long.

 

“Whoo, that was a little embarrassing,” she said as she leaned against the high-top, to all appearances back to her perky self. “I got so screechy.”

 

“You sounded great,” said Rinoa with feeling.

 

Quistis nodded, touching Selphie's back. “You literally brought tears to my eyes. You were wonderful.”

 

“Yay!” Selphie grinned; it was impossible to know who she was replying to. But her next query was clear as she rounded on Zell, putting her hands on her hips. “What's the matter with you? Why'd you start throwing punches at Zero?”

 

“Zero?” Zell blinked, utterly confused.

 

“Quisty's boyfriend!” Selphie huffed, folding her arms. “He's really nice, you know. For a dirty merc.”

 

“Eeew,” said Zell, rearing back in disgust and looking at Quistis. “Really? That's _really_ what he does?”

 

“What else is he supposed to do?” Quistis asked acerbically.

 

“I dunno! Be a gigolo or something,” said Zell, which made Irvine and Selphie both burst out laughing. “Hey, that's _honest_ work. Dirty merc'ing... Mm-mm. No way.”

 

“He would be a pretty good stripper,” said Rinoa. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, “He seems pretty proud of the way he looks. And not exactly self-conscious.”

 

Quistis thought of Seifer bowing in the balcony of her apartment in Dollet, naked as a jaybird and giving no fucks, and started to laugh.

 

“She loves being on sabbatical,” said Squall, leaning heavily on the bar with his cheek in his hand. As the next round of shots arrived, Squall picked his up and said, “She used to be real scared about her blue magic, you know... And she thinks the Shumi can help... She's worried she's gonna go nuts otherwise. I can't blame her... Lunatic Pandora was really weird.”

 

“No kidding,” Seifer said, picking up his next shot. Something in him just couldn't turn the brunet away when he was asking for help, and now he was paying back the kindness by letting all sorts of interesting information about Quistis drop out. Plus, Squall looked like he was going to melt into the floor at any second and like hell Seifer was going to miss that.

 

Squall picked up his shot and raised it to eye level, making Seifer do the same. They solemnly clinked glasses before tossing the shot down, though Seifer kept an eye on Squall as the brunet coughed and sputtered a bit. When he spoke again, Squall started to slur words that didn't have S's and his voice came out as high and soft and innocent as a normal teenager's, which made Seifer chuckle.

 

“I think it scares her,” said Squall, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. His eyelids started to droop closed as he said, “Because... Who's gonna stop her if it happens? Us. We're the only ones who could. And that'd suck. We had a hard enough time with you.”

 

“Did you really?” Seifer asked dryly.

 

“Yeah...” Squall glared at him, but there was a lot of punch lost when he was staring at Seifer's chest instead of his face. “We knew you weren't good. I mean normal. We just... You know. Our jobs. Diff'rent views. Objectives.”

 

“Yeah, yeah...” Seifer sighed heavily. “We all did what we thought was right, didn't we?”

 

“Uh-huh...” Then Squall put his head on the bar, making Seifer's brows rise.

 

“Oh lord,” said Rinoa, eeling through the crowd and putting her hand on Squall's back. “Babe, how much have you had? Zero, what did you do to him?”

 

“It's not my fault he can't back down from a fight,” said Seifer as two more shots arrived. Picking up his glass, he tapped it against Squall's head and said, “I'm winning, by the way.”

 

“Fuck you,” said Squall, sitting up and reaching for his shot. Rinoa plucked it out of his grasp and drank it before he could object, but that didn't stop him from pawing weakly at the empty glass. Seifer snickered as Squall moaned quietly, “Nooo... I'm gonna beat him.”

 

“Aw man, is he wasted again?” Irvine sighed as he came over. Selphie shook her head, but was smiling, and Seifer spotted a sour-looking but calm Zell standing at her back. Quistis came to Seifer's side and he looped his arm around her waist as Irvine looked at Squall and said, “I told him to stick to beer.”

 

“Liquors taste better,” said Squall, his sullen voice losing a lot of its force as he started to sway on his barstool.

 

“Picklebacks?” said Seifer to Rinoa, who sighed and nodded.

 

“We might as well just give him the jar,” she said, rubbing Squall's back as he put his head down on the bar again with a thud. “Or just take him home. Babe, you gotta stop doing this. You _know_ alcohol is not your friend.”

 

“S'not my fault,” Squall muttered audibly, gesturing weakly at Seifer. “S'cause we can't fight.”

 

“This was not my idea,” said Seifer when Quistis looked at him flatly. “He chose the alcohol. And I'm still winning.”

 

“Mm-hmm,” said Quistis, noting the still-full shot in his hand. She glanced at Rinoa, who caught her look and gave a nod of complete support and understanding. Seifer made a noise of protest as Quistis pulled the shot from his hand and drank it. It tasted like death and burning, but also sweet and somewhat peaty at the end. _Wow._ Quistis put her hand to her forehead as it started to pound all of a sudden.

 

“Hey, I was looking forward to that,” said Seifer, and Quistis squeaked as he grasped her by the back of the neck and kissed her deeply, licking every last taste of whiskey from her lips and tongue. Her eyelashes fluttered for a second before she remembered they were in public and mortification made Quistis push away, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Seifer let her go, grinning with a little glint of devilishness in his eyes that made her feel warm inside.

 

“Eeew,” Zell moaned, covering his eyes.

 

“You're gay, what do you care?” Seifer asked, looking at Zell over his shoulder.

 

“You're gay?” Selphie exclaimed to Zell, who flushed a bit and jammed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie.

 

“Well I sure as heck ain't straight!” He shot back.

 

“What about that thing with Trina in the library?”

 

“She broke up with me.”

 

“What? When?” Rinoa demanded even as Seifer thought about who usually was in the library. Something about pigtails tickled his mind. “And why?”

 

“It was a few months ago...” Zell sighed mournfully, sagging in place. “She said she couldn't handle all the drama with my folks...”

 

“So she took it out on you?” Seifer couldn't resist asking. “Sounds like you dodged a bullet. Ow!”

 

“Be nice,” Rinoa scolded, dropping her hand as Seifer rubbed the back of his head.

 

“Have you met me?” He demanded.

 

“Intimately,” said Rinoa in a near-mutter, which made Squall make a noise of distress and Quistis blush. Seifer just looked at Rinoa flatly for a second before smirking. Behind Seifer's shoulder, Selphie cocked her head but nobody noticed.

 

Since Squall was too drunk to function and Zell was not exactly sober either, they decided to call it a night and go back to their respective places. Everyone was surprised when Seifer helped carry Squall from the bar, but his help was appreciated since Zell wasn't exactly steady on his feet and all the girls were in heels. And all the while Selphie kept saying to Quistis, “It is _so_ nice that you have such a sweet boyfriend!” and other such praises, which made everyone laugh nervously and then sweat a little as they waited for Caraway's limousine to come around.

 

“Where to, Miss?” asked Armitage the chauffeur, who had known Rinoa since she was in diapers and was more loyal to the Caraways than the entire country of Galbadia.

 

“Me, Squall, and Zell to the Mansion, Selphie and Irvine to their place,” she said, pointing. “And... You two? Where are you going?”

 

“We're going to the same place, right?” Seifer asked, his voice so light and casual that Quistis forgot to get embarrassed. When she nodded, he said, “Mine or yours?”

 

“Mine is a single,” said Quistis, thinking about the small room she'd rented. It was really only big enough to sleep in since she'd planned on spending most of her vacation out on the town.

 

“Then we're going to the Franzia,” said Seifer, making everyone look at him in surprise as he named one of the most expensive hotels in Deling City. “Don't worry about us. It's a close enough walk.”

 

“Not in high heels,” said Rinoa, looking at Quistis's shoes. “Get in, we'll take you.”

 

Seifer eyed the limousine suspiciously, but then shrugged. It wasn't like this particular group of people to lull him into a false sense of security and then stick him with a knockout drug or something similarly underhanded. And he'd liked spending non-enemy time together with the old gang for the first time in a really long time... Nevertheless, it would be good to be wary, so Seifer nodded, made a mental note to stay near the door, and also prepared himself to fight his way out if things got bad. If he moved quick enough, he could cut a hole in the roof of the car and escape without having to hurt anyone, which would be a crap end to an otherwise fun evening.

 

So everyone piled into the limousine. As soon as he could lie down, Squall flopped over with his head in Rinoa's lap, making Seifer grin broadly but keep his mouth shut as both Rinoa and Quistis pinned him with flat looks. Everyone sat in couple pairs except for Zell, who put himself as a buffer between Rinoa and Quistis and leaned back in the cushy seat, yawning hugely.

 

“You're going to have to figure out something to do with yourself tomorrow,” said Quistis to Seifer, making him look at her in surprise. “I'm going shopping with the girls all day.”

 

“Fine,” he said. “I haven't got you a birthday present yet, so that works out.”

 

She nodded and then groaned lightly. “Oh, all my things are at my hotel...”

 

“Wanna meet at 11 instead of 10?” Selphie suggested, making Quistis nod. “Okay, cool. See you in like... Ten hours. Man, it got late _quick.”_

 

“That's what Saturday nights are for,” said Irvine, amused. He kissed her on the head and murmured something in her ear that made Selphie giggle and Zell make a face.

 

“Ugh,” he said to no one in particular.

 

“Oh shut up, you'll be just as disgusting when you find a nice gir—guy,” said Irvine, making Zell's mouth thin. “Whatever you're into. You said you're gay, right?”

 

“I think. I don't know. I still like girls most of the time, I'm just noticing guys more right now.” Zell rubbed his eyes. “It doesn't matter anyway. All the people I'm interested in are my age. They're the freaking students, man! I'm faculty! I can't date anyone!”

 

“Welcome to my hell,” Quistis murmured as Seifer snickered. “Well... Not anymore. But it was my hell for a good long time. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

“Mannn...” Zell grumbled. “Why didn't you warn me?”

 

“You never asked,” said Quistis, making Zell sigh heavily.

 

They pulled up to the Franzia, which glittered and gleamed from the lights of its streetlamps and the reflections thrown back by the Vinzer Canal, which was wide enough to be mistaken for a small river. Selphie ooh'ed at the view.

 

“You know, I think the weddings I plan here are the prettiest,” she said to no one in particular. Since retiring from SeeD, she had thrown herself into planning weddings and other fancy occasions full-time, commanding a high price not just for her name but also for the genuine fun and joy that she infused every planned party with. Every gil that didn't go back into the business or paying out a living wage went to rebuilding Trabia Garden, which made people feel good about supporting her ventures too. “That conservatory inside is just to die for. I _need_ to take you guys here for afternoon tea sometime.”

 

“We can talk about that tomorrow,” said Quistis, her voice going soft as she suddenly remembered what was happening.Unconsciously she dropped her gaze, suddenly warm and breathless with anticipation. Seifer had his arms up on the back of seat, but when he noticed her look he smiled and reached down to put his arm around her shoulder instead. They'd already been sitting close but Quistis felt Seifer nudge her leg with his in a playful but very definite sort of manner. She ducked her head but smiled, blushing, as Armitage came around to open the door.

 

“Goodnight,” Rinoa called as Quistis and Seifer got out, holding hands. Quistis made a strange, jerky little nod but Seifer waved over his shoulder, the genuine affection in his smile just barely overcoming his cocky smirk. Zell tsked and looked away, but Irvine saluted back and Selphie waved. The door shut and the limousine started moving again.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: “Who Knew” is one of my favorite songs, though I never heard it on the radio. I don't remember the exact wikiwalk, but somehow I found a wonderful female acapella version of the song where they were rehearsing in a hotel room and the way they pulled and changed some of the phrases pleased me a great deal. It was difficult for me to pick out which parts of the song to put into the chapter because honestly, _all_ the lyrics work for Selphie's situation.  
  
Bbl, gonna draw Squall and Seifer in Dr. Kadowaki's version of the “get along” shirt.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	20. Chapter 20

As they went up the steps to the Franzia, Quistis found her blood pulsing with anticipation. Seifer's hand was very warm in hers and she couldn't help but look at their linked fingers, smiling despite everything. No, this wasn't a desperate jump out into space or any other grand gesture of love. But it felt so important. And maybe it was because of the whiskey on top of all the other booze that her heart was pounding so hard or that Seifer almost seemed glow with affection for her, but Quistis thought she had never been so happy. It was so nice to be together. So nice not to be alone.

 

It was late enough that nobody in the hotel lobby was around except for staff, so when they went to the elevator, it arrived quickly and there was no one else inside. Seifer pulled her into his arms as he pushed the button for their floor and started kissing Quistis before the doors even closed, his breath warm and heavy with desire. Quistis wrapped her arms languidly around his neck as she felt his hunger sweep over her. He smelled _so_ good, the notes of his unique scent fluctuating almost like a song she wanted to listen to, but it was hard to pay attention to that when Seifer pushed her lightly against the wall and started kissing down her neck, making her shiver with the touch of his lips.

 

“Happy birthday,” he murmured to her huskily. Quistis started laughing and then gasping as he slid his hands up from her waist to grasp her breasts.

 

“Stop, elevator cameras,” she told him, breathless as he squeezed gently.

 

“They're not gonna see anything but a white blur,” he told her, sea-green eyes aglow with desire. “Come on.”

 

“No. Stop it.”

 

Seifer grumbled but put his hands back around her waist. However, all appearances of chastity went out the window when he ground against her, making her gasp when she felt the strength of his want for her, and between that and the insistent, seductive force of his kisses, Quistis felt like she was floating by the time the elevator stopped on the target floor. She stumbled when they exited the elevator, squeezing Seifer's hand tight.

 

“You okay?” He asked her as she put her hand to her head.

 

“Yeah, just a little headache...” Quistis pushed the heel of her hand into her temple. Her head was pounding in a vaguely ominous way. “This wig is tight. I want it off.”

 

“We're almost to the room,” he promised her.

 

Seifer's room was at the end of the hall, which Quistis absently noted made it close to the stairs and perfect for any sort of quick escape. As Seifer unlocked the door, Quistis took a moment to look out of the window at the end of the hall, admiring the Deling City nightline as lights seemed to dance and twinkle before her eyes. She had no idea how long she stood there before Seifer came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders and kissing her neck again.

 

“Mmm...”

 

“Aww, you sound sleepy,” he murmured, tugging at the collar of her jacket to expose more of her neck. “Too tired?”

 

“No,” she said, feeling a surge of annoyance. She had been waiting for this weekend for two whole months, she was _not_ too tired. “I just need to sit down a little.”

 

“ _What the hell was in that shot? Probably something strong... Really strong. Squall looked completely messed up.”_

 

Of course, Squall could get messed up just sniffing alcohol. Quistis wondered if Rinoa was going to need help carrying Squall out of the car when Seifer started kissing down her neck again, running his lips and the point of his tongue over spots so sensitive that her knees literally went weak. She nearly made a noise but instead remembered to pant instead, which sort of backfired as Seifer slid his hands from her shoulders down her arms and then over her waist. One went down and one went up, and she nearly told him to quit it before he found the point of her nipple underneath her soft jersey top. It was a cowlneck, so she hadn't bothered wearing a bra, and the touch of his fingers through the fabric sent a shock of sensation rocking through her body. Quistis gasped and then gasped again, her mouth falling open in deeper shock, as Seifer dipped his hand between her legs and ran his fingers boldly against her in one hard and breath-stealing stroke. This was way more serious than the elevator, but being at the end of a hall with Seifer between her and anyone who might come out, as well as there not being any cameras in the hotel hall itself, made Quistis stammer over her objections. She felt Seifer chuckle as he sensed weakness and took delightful advantage by grinding against her and making her brace herself against the window. Quistis managed to come back to herself when she felt Seifer's hot fingertips skimming the top of her breast, pulling the cowlneck down to almost dangerous levels. Clearly he wanted to see how much she'd let him get away with.

 

“Stop it,” she told him, making sure her voice was firm, and Seifer laughed softly. He kissed her on the neck before letting go and chastely putting his hands in his pockets when Quistis turned around and resettled her clothes. Seifer looked very satisfied and not at all aroused, which made Quistis glare a bit.

 

“Wanna go inside?” He asked, grinning at her.

 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

 

Seifer laughed—she looked a bit like an annoyed cat even with the cute blush on her cheeks—and unlocked the door. He couldn't wait to get her behind closed doors again.

 

“You want some water?” Seifer asked as he showed her into the room. Quistis started to shake her head and then stared at the room, which was more properly a suite; there was a sitting area, a balcony, what looked like a massive bathroom off to the side, and of course...the bed. Quistis's mouth fell open as she saw the lit candles and the rose petals on the sheets. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket by the bed too. It was so... So...

 

“I missed you,” said Seifer softly, seeing Quistis's wide-eyed gaze drop to the floor, her cheeks bright red. She was so cute, and as overly dramatic as this setup had been, it seemed like it was paying off. As Seifer closed the door and locked it, he asked, “Are you okay?”

 

Quistis nodded, unable to articulate what was holding her tongue. She was a mercenary. A SeeD. A Legendary SeeD to boot. Soft romantic things... They just weren't for her. They weren't. Candles and rose petals and champagne, they were for delicate civilian girls who were always treated like they were special. Who were always pampered and loved.

 

“ _Am I one of those girls now? Am I...loved?”_

 

Quistis started to tremble, clutching her arms. Seifer noticed the shimmer of motion going down her hair and wondered what she was thinking.

 

“You want something to drink?”

 

Quistis shook her head. Between the precipice of emotion that she was teetering over and the alcohol still pounding in her head, she didn't want any other powerful chemicals in her system. She jumped and audibly gasped when Seifer put his arms around her waist and pulled her close, resting his head against her shoulder. She expected more lascivious touching considering what had happened just seconds before, but Seifer made no such move.

 

“Tell me what's wrong,” he said softly. Quistis closed her eyes, remembering another night long ago, when she'd been suffering the worst disappointment of her career and trying to hide her grief in drink and dancing and pleasurable company. That night, the only good thing—the best thing, the thing that overwhelmed every sad memory she had of that time—had been Seifer and his solid support. Quistis felt her panicked breath ease. She _was_ valuable. She _was_ loved. This wasn't too good for her.

 

“Nothing's wrong,” said Quistis, hardly daring to believe it. “I'm just...overwhelmed. I didn't think this could happen.”

 

“I told you I'd make it,” he said, nuzzling her neck.

 

“No, not... This. But... _This._ Us.” She put her hands over his arms and squeezed, sighing shakily. “I just didn't think it would ever happen. Not after everything. And... Me being me.”

 

“What do you mean?” Seifer could easily think which one of them had more problems, and it wasn't her.

 

“I...” Quistis closed her eyes. “I... I never thought... Oh, I can't say it. Just...”

 

“ _Just prove to me that you love me right now.”_

 

“...Just get naked,” she mumbled instead. There would be time to say more emotional things later.

 

Seifer snickered, delighted by her tipsy forwardness. Even as his heart ached toward the words that seemed to be on Quistis's lips, he told himself there was no rush. They'd have a week together to sort things out. Meanwhile he moved slowly and carefully, noticing how she was trembling like the first time they'd ever kissed in the elevator, how she could just barely meet his eyes before her own overflowed with emotion. He had no idea what she was so scared of or embarrassed about, but he could feel that she was eager, just not verbal. Fine. That was perfectly fine. He didn't exactly need words to let him know how much she liked him and what he was doing. When he kissed her sweetly and tenderly, cupping her face in his hands so he could be sure of every ounce of her attention, Quistis practically melted into his touch and nearly made him stumble as she pressed up against him. There was a sursurrous slither of leather against skin as Quistis shrugged out of her jacket and looped her arms around his neck, never once taking her lips from his. As before, Seifer could taste an edge of whiskey and wine to her normal sweetness, which made him remember the SeeD Ball. She had been tipsy then too, and the memory of their excited run through the empty halls made Seifer smile. So much of that exhilaration was coming back now, making him feel like this was the start of something that was going to stay good rather than just exist as a sweet moment in a sea of suck.

 

Seifer quelled the roaring desire in his blood by being careful and attentive, which Quistis seemed to like even as her usual soft gasps and cries weakened into little hums. He hoped she wasn't falling asleep standing up, but when he tried to untie the halter at the top of her neck, Quistis suddenly put her hands on his shoulders and said, “Stop.”

 

“Why? What's wrong?”

 

“I think... I'll have that water after all.”

 

Seifer looked at Quistis closely. He was used to a variety of expressions from her, but 'straight-up drunk' was not one of them. It manifested like a frown, except her eyes weren't focused on anything in particular.

 

“How much have you had tonight?” Seifer asked.

 

“Umm... I had a few glasses of wine with dinner. And then we had a drink together... And that shot...”

 

Damn. Add all that to the slight swaying he could feel in his arms, and there was no two ways about it; Quistis was _gone._ In Seifer's professional assessment (hard-won from finding way too many students passed out in the training center) she was probably close to barfing. Seifer steered Quistis over to the bed and went for the water while Quistis sat down on the bed and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. Her heart hurt with how stupid she was being right now. Every moment, as amazing as it had been, as loving and caring as every touch was, still seemed to slosh the alcohol in her veins until nausea overwhelmed pleasure and emotion. Now Quistis was afraid that if she moved too fast, she would throw up. How pathetic. How disappointing. But of course it was her, so something would have to go wrong. By the time Seifer came back to the bed with a cup of water, she was pressing her lips together hard and trying not to cry.

 

“What the hell,” Seifer muttered, reaching out and touching her hair. How could she go from calm to freaking out in less than thirty seconds? “Have some water.”

 

“I feel really stupid,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

 

“You're just drunk,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. “We've all been there.”

 

“But we were doing things and—”

 

“It's not the end of the world,” he said, making her sniffle. “We'll just try again later.”

 

“But—”

 

“Drink your water,” he said, making Quistis go still and then nod stiffly. She rubbed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then took the glass with the most adorable expression of misery Seifer had ever seen. He scooted close to her and kissed her on the temple as she put the glass to her lips. “Feeling better?”

 

“Mm-hmm.” Her voice echoed slightly in the glass.

 

“Need some medicine?” Seifer asked as she drained the glass.

 

“...I just want to sleep,” she whispered shamefacedly, not even able to look at him.

 

“Then we'll sleep.”

 

“But—”

 

She was so hard on herself. Seifer took the empty glass out of Quistis's hand and set it on the floor before pulling back the blankets and sheets and throwing them over her. She made a noise of protest since she was still sitting up, but by the time Seifer undressed (no point in sleeping in clothes), Quistis was lying down and seemed more than halfway unconsious. Nevertheless as soon as he climbed into bed and laid down, Quistis curled up against him and Seifer twitched a bit as she kissed his neck.

 

“Sorry,” she murmured.

 

“You're fine,” he said, smoothing her hair from her face. She fretted almost as bad as Raijin did, though at least in Quistis's case, evidence would calm her down. Seifer kissed her forehead and her cheeks and her lips, and when she sighed and eased against him, he knew she was actually fine. And how. Quistis had managed to slither out of her clothing while he'd been undressing and the warm temptation of her skin pressed against his made Seifer want to see if she was really too drunk for fun times. They didn't have to have sex... Maybe just some more kissing, some teasing, and ending with getting his tongue between her thighs until she couldn't stand it anymore and begged him to fuck her sober. Ooh. That sounded like a plan.

 

Or she could barf all over him, get angry he wasn't paying listening to her, or worst of all, just lay there and let him do what he wanted while wanting anything else but his touch. With a grumble Seifer kicked the base physical urges back and clenched his hands in rhythm with slow, deep breaths until the physical ache in his hips was gone. Sex was nice, sure, but he could have got that from Nylon if it was really that big of a deal. Closing his eyes, Seifer petted Quistis's hair and basked in the real comfort he wanted. Quistis was here. She wanted to be with him. And she trusted him enough to be weak and shy even with everything he had done to her. The very least he could do was behave.

 

“I love you.” He mouthed the words, tasting how they felt without fear and adrenaline pushing them out. They felt alright. More than right. Seifer sighed and closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips as he fell asleep dreaming of the good things the future might bring.

 

/\/\/\

 

“Are you the one who goes by 'Nylon'?”

 

Nylon bit back a swear and turned to look behind her. She was coming off an 14-hour shift and was thinking longingly of bed, but her fatigue burned off as soon as she saw the three SeeDs approaching her from the shadows. Nylon swallowed and took a step back, putting herself in a pool of light underneath a streetlight and also in the path of a security camera that she knew was across the street. She never took a route home unless it would be filmed at least 75% of the way, and while she was fairly sure uniformed SeeDs wouldn't be assholes, she trusted no one until they gave her reason otherwise.

 

“Yeah,” she said, seeing no point in prolonging the encounter. “What do you want?”

 

“You were the information broker for 'The Captain',” said the leader of the group, a stocky woman with short hair.

 

“Yeah, for the time he was around,” said Nylon, frowning. What had the Captain done to warrant attention from SeeDs? “He's gone now. He left about a week ago and made it clear he doesn't plan to be back."

 

“Did he say where he was going?” The woman asked.

 

“Why do you care?” Nylon asked, trying not to sound defensive. “I thought SeeDs and freelancers didn't mess with each other.”

 

“He's unbonded, so he's fair game,” said the darkskinned man, folding his arms. “Plus, he broke some rules. Trust me, there's a lot of interest in finding the guy.”  
  


“And just in case you think about helping him out instead,” said a woman managing to pull off twintails. “I wouldn't recommend it. Part of the reason we're after him is that he opened fire on a school full of kids and then tried to murder his entire family.”

 

“Oh my god,” said Nylon in the appropriately horrified tones even as she mentally rolled her eyes. She didn't know these SeeDs and they clearly didn't know the Captain if they thought he'd do that sort of thing. From the get-go he'd always been principled—noble, even, though it was a damn silly word and concept. She couldn't imagine the man she knew doing the things these SeeDs were accusing him of, which made her wonder if they were mistaken, secretly had it out for him, or if perhaps the Captain wasn't who he said he was. But who cared what he said? Nylon knew how the guy behaved and his behavior had told her he was a good guy... Unless he was paid to be otherwise.

 

“ _I wonder if I can mess with these people and throw 'em off the trail... After all, I don't know them from Hyne and the Captain's always been good to me. But at the same time, I'm all alone. If they realize I'm fucking with them, they could just kill me.”_

 

And not just immediately, either. Nylon suppressed a shiver as she imagined how angry the SeeDs would be if she deliberately sent them across the world in the wrong direction. So as much as it stuck in her craw, she decided that in this case, honesty was the best policy.  
  


“ _Sorry, Captain, but you're a big boy and you can take care of yourself. I hope.”_  
  


“Well, I have no idea about where he is now,” said Nylon, shrugging. “Sorry.”  
  


The SeeDs exchanged a look. Nylon fingered her pistol, especially as the leader reached into her pocket. To Nylon's shock, she pulled out what looked like a note for a thousand gil. Nylon had seen one of those exactly once and had never forgotten the look of them.

 

“It's probably hard to remember all the fine details when you're worried about making rent and buying groceries,” said the leader, gently waving the bill back and forth. “That's okay. Just relax, Nylon. Anything you can tell us is good. How did you get in contact with the Captain?”

 

“I didn't,” said Nylon, her eyes still on the money. The Captain's envelope of cash hadn't gone as far as Nylon had hoped between bills, loans, and sending some back to her folks out in the boonies so they'd make it through the winter. A thousand gil could make her a lot more comfortable right now. With another uncomfortable silent apology to the Captain, Nylon said, “He'd just come by the bar every night. You know, buy a drink, chat for a bit. I'd hold onto stuff I heard and pass it along that way. I never called him or contacted him.”

 

“Did you ever spend time with him outside the bar?” The leader asked as the two other SeeDs glanced at each other.  
  


“Just once. I took him to a tattoo parlor. He got some ink done.”  
  


“What does it look like?”

 

“Umm...” Hyne, it had been such a long time ago. “Some sort of black and white symbol... It was circular. There was fire... Oh, phoenix feathers and fire. Sort of like...” Helplessly Nylon sketched in the air before shaking her head and saying, “I don't know how to describe it. But it's on his right shoulder, on his delt. It's bigger than my palm.”

 

“What was the name of the tattoo parlor?” Asked the leader, and after Nylon gave the name (they'd find out sooner or later), she asked, “Did you see any other identifying marks?”

 

Nylon shrugged. It wasn't like she'd had opportunity to study the guy in any sort of useful or fun detail, and the memory of coming on so hard to someone so young and attached (how the hell did he have a girlfriend?) still made Nylon squirm a bit. That had been the most embarrassing thing she'd done in a long time, though she still remembered the brush of those nice tight abs and the heft of what she'd managed to grab before everything had gone to hell. Maybe showing a young man the ropes wasn't such a bad idea...  
  


“Can you think of anything else?” Asked the darkskinned SeeD, startling Nylon from her speculations.

 

Nylon chewed over her information for a while before deciding to let something actually interesting fall out. She _wanted_ that money. “Before he left, he asked me to make him a coat. I've never handled that sort of fabric before. It felt weird.”

 

“Do you have a picture of the coat?” The leader asked.

 

“No,” said Nylon. “Not exactly. I tried to take a picture of it for my files. But it didn't go.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean it just showed up as a white blur,” said Nylon, figuring that was innocuous enough. “Like a flashlight pointing straight at the camera. I thought there was something wrong with my phone at first, but it showed up like that on everything.”  
  


The leader's eyes narrowed.

 

“Did he say where he got the fabric from?” Asked the twintailed SeeD, her eyes sharp with interest.

 

“No, he just brought it to me one day. Yards of the stuff.”

 

“Do you have any of it left?”

 

“No, he said he needed every scrap back.”

 

“None of it was left behind? No trimming, no little bits or threads?”

 

“Everything got swept into a bag that he took with him,” said Nylon, remembering the somewhat strange request. Maybe she should have held onto some of that fabric, but it had been such a bitch to sew with that she'd been happy to have it out of her place.

 

“What color's the coat?” The darkskinned SeeD asked.

 

“White,” said Nylon, deliberately withholding the information about it being able to reverse to a different design. She wasn't going to make things easy on these people, after all; they were professionals and shouldn't have a problem with hard work. Plus... She didn't want the Captain getting mad and coming back for her either. Just because he didn't plan to be back didn't mean he wouldn't be, and if he did come through, then she wanted to be able to look him in the eyes and know she'd given him a running start.

 

“Draw us a picture,” said the darkskinned SeeD, taking his phone out of his pocket and holding it out to her.

 

Nylon drew a deliberately bad, plain picture. When she was done, the leader gave her the thousand gil bill and Nylon risked a moment to grin at the high number before she stuffed it into her pocket.

 

“You're going to let us know if he comes through again,” said leader. She pulled a card out of her pocket and put it in Nylon's hand. “There's a reward for you if you help us out.”

 

“Sure thing,” Nylon promised. The SeeDs went away and Nylon went home, but the elation of taking their money went away a bit faster than she would have liked. Despite being on her feet for 14 hours, it was hard for Nylon to actually fall asleep that night. She hadn't really betrayed the Captain, had she? She'd just been truthful and made a little money on the side. There wasn't anything wrong with that. He'd understand. He was a mercenary, after all, and had probably done some things he wasn't particularly proud of for the sake of green too.

 

Was that why three SeeDs were after him? Now Nylon shivered, wondering exactly what she'd gotten herself into. And as she lay awake in bed and looked up at the ceiling, she hoped she would never fully find out.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Sorry-not-sorry for the cocktease. There's some smut on the art tumblr. The tag is 'pornlord ambitions'.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	21. Chapter 21

Seifer became conscious slowly, aware of soft touches going down the back of his neck and across his shoulder. The ghostlike brushes made him grumble—they were just light enough to be disruptive—and then he heard a soft laugh.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“Mmmnin.”

 

Another soft laugh and then a delicious press of warm skin against his own that made Seifer hum happily and crack an eyelid. Quistis was very near by, drawing her fingertips lightly over the shoulder where his new tattoo was.

 

“Nice ink,” she said, her voice still husky with sleep. But she seemed completely sober, which boded well. “If a little obvious in its symbolism.”

 

“I earned that,” Seifer said, ducking his head to put it under her chest. Quistis laughed as he snuggled into her breasts, holding her close as she attempted to lean away. She smelled so nice and the softness of her unblemished skin sent a shiver of relaxation through Seifer's entire body. Not just speaking about his tattoo now, he muttered, “S'mine.”

 

“Yes, yes...” Quistis petted his hair, the soft scratch of her fingernails on his scalp making him sigh. “Look, I'm sorry about last night.”

 

“Don't care. Sleep.”

 

“It's 9am. You've had plenty of rest.”

 

“No.”

 

“Well, I have. Let go, I have to get ready to meet the girls.”

 

“No.” He threw a leg over her and then rolled on top of her as she tried to wiggle away. “They can see you any time. You're mine now.”

 

“Which is sweet, except I'm fairly sure you're going to fall asleep on me.”

 

“Mmhmm.” 9am was the ass end of Seifer's normal day; he was dead tired and didn't want to get up for at least another five hours.

 

“Seifer.”

 

“Mm.”

 

“Seifer, please get off me.”

 

He growled, but rolled just enough to take his weight off her. Quistis eased out from underneath him, but did not slide out of the bed. Instead she kissed his cheek and down his neck, making Seifer smile even as he started to drift back to sleep. A light push on his hip made him realize she wanted him on his back, and Seifer's smile widened slightly as the soft warmth of Quistis's lips went down his chest. He was just sleepy enough that when she started to lick and nibble on his nipples, he just sighed softly and shifted in bed, enjoying the lazy rise of heat from his blood.

 

“ _He's so tired,”_ Quistis thought, amused that what had made him groan and writhe before now just made him smile and to all appearances, keep sleeping. She sat up a bit.

 

“I'll let you sleep,” she said, half-anticipating that he would say—

 

“No, keep going,” Seifer said, turning away to hide his yawn. “I'm awake.”

 

“I'm not sure you are,” said Quistis. Seifer lifted his head, green irises just barely visible, and took her wrist in his hand. She startled and blushed as he put her hand right on top of his erection, which was stunningly hot and very hard. From any other man this would have made Quistis release an immediate and brutal punching, but instead a shiver of nervous anticipation went through Quistis's body as she literally felt the measure of his desire.

 

“Any questions?” He asked, smiling lazily. Quistis held her breath as Seifer curled her fingers around his shaft and pulled down, which made him sigh deeply and arch slightly in bed. It was so subtle and yet so intensely erotic that she couldn't help but feel a swell of lust in her own blood, one that made her want to climb on top of him and _really_ get him up. Well... Why not? Quistis mentally plotted out her timeline: 30 minutes for fun, maybe 15 for a nap, 15 for a shower, and she would still have 30 minutes to get to her hotel and change in time for shopping with Rinoa and Selphie. It was eminently doable. She could even be late. After all, wasn't she on vacation?

 

“ _This is the only way to wake up,”_ thought Seifer, eyes blinking open by degrees as Quistis kissed down his torso and lightly scratched at the sensitive margin where his abs met his sides. He nearly wriggled as a ticklish feeling twitched over his skin, but channeled the sudden tightening into a low sigh as Quistis slid lower, and Seifer couldn't help but grin. He couldn't count how many times he had dreamed about this happening again, but dreams immediately paled against reality as soon as he felt Quistis's breath against the head of his cock and then a second later, the flick of her tongue. A little jolt of pleasure turned into a spark that set his blood to simmering. 

 

Months ago in Dollet, Quistis remembered being woken up by kisses down the back of her neck and suggestive touches down her sides and stomach until she'd been restless with desire, so she tried to create the same feeling now by being deliberately light and teasing as she re-familiarized herself with the mechanics of oral sex. It was fun giving head, especially when Seifer sighed and arched sensually for her, one hand creeping down to brush her hair away from her face. Since he didn't yank her hair or push her head down, it felt like a caress and Quistis hummed happily at the familiar, beloved touch, which in turn made Seifer sit up halfway to better see what she was doing. She heard the sound of fabric brushing against fabric as he took a moment to pull the pillows into place, and when Quistis glanced up, he was gazing down at her with pure fondness and a stunning amount of lust that made her shiver inside. But some of that was self-consciousness too—it was daylight and the bed was right by a very large picture window, and far below the Franzia there was a canal that was dotted with people taking morning walks or runs. The possibility of getting spied on was very low but Quistis couldn't shake the idea... Not that it was strong enough to make her stop. Instead Quistis started sucking and stroking at the same time, a vague notion of getting things over with quickly speeding her actions.

 

From the noise Seifer made, he did not disapprove at all, but it wasn't long before Quistis got impatient for more. She'd been looking forward to last night for multiple reasons and eventually pulled back, making Seifer look at her with a light frown. His expression changed immediately to one of glee when Quistis straddled him, blushing, and literally pointed him in the right direction. Things were still new enough that she couldn't look him in the eyes, but she was powerfully aware of Seifer grinning at her like a maniac, his fingertips digging into her thighs as she eased herself down. There wasn't exactly resistance because she'd licked him all over but it still took Quistis a moment to get used to the feeling of penetration again after two months of near-nothing. There was a lot more friction than usual and it seemed like things were much tighter. Briefly Quistis contemplated the importance of foreplay and then mentally shrugged. It wasn't like things were unpleasant or painful right now. And she did sort of like the feeling of literally being aware of every inch inside her, even though it made her pant for breath.

 

“Good?” Seifer asked, trying to be patient as Quistis's breathing eased. She nodded and Seifer sighed happily when she started rocking against him. In contrast to her dick-sucking skills, Quistis seemed extremely awkward when it came to being on top (it reminded him of opening and closing a drawer, actually), but Seifer didn't care. It wasn't like she'd had anyone to show her differently. Seifer even liked how Quistis didn't seem to know where to put her hands and kept resting them by his hips or on his stomach before gripping his shoulders. Fortunately she was not digging in with her fingertips, which would have turned a fun time to a painful one. Seifer pulled his hands up from her legs to her hips and then her back, pulling her close so she lay more on top of him as he shifted on the bed for better positioning. This slow simmer was nice but he wanted more.

 

Any illusion Quistis had of setting the pace immediately flew out the window as Seifer lifted his hips and started thrusting into her from below, stealing her breath with the sudden change in sensation. She ducked her head against his shoulder, her senses filled with awareness of his presence and the delicious complexity of his scent as his breathing grew rough-edged and low moans escaped his lips from time to time. Quistis felt Seifer's hands creep down to her hips and grip restlessly, kneading her behind rhythmically in a way that made her feel exposed and rather wanton. She had half a mind to sit up but doing anything other than holding still and simply letting herself receive seemed to dull the pleasure somehow, or at least distract her at a critical juncture. Or so she thought until Seifer abruptly surged, pinned her flat to the bed, and took full control. Seeing the want on his face illuminated in growing daylight made Quistis shut her eyes as new vulnerability flooded her veins, seemingly setting her arousal on fire. At that, Seifer grinned. Quistis had no idea how pretty she looked right now, face flushed from sex and her lips a beautiful red, her hair all kinked and curled from the wig she'd worn the night before and even tangled in places from sleep. Seifer knew nobody else had ever seen her like this, and he had to grin to bite back the three rather significant words that were surging against his lips with every thrust. He was _not_ going to say it like this, never in a million years. But he had to say something.

 

“Missed you,” Seifer groaned, whispering in Quistis's ear, and he felt her shudder underneath him before her arms came up around his sides. Ten daggerpoints of nails raked down his back, making Seifer hiss as pain-turned-pleasure seemed to shock him into new heights of desire.

 

“Missed you too,” Quistis whispered back, daring to crack open her eyes. Seifer was looking directly at her like she knew he'd be doing, and even though she met his heated gaze for less than a half-second, it was still enough to trip something subtle in her blood. As the pleasure grew and threatened to break, Quistis was barely aware of her hands creeping down to Seifer's low back and then his hips, awash in a growing need and awareness for more. For his part, Seifer sighed shakily and surrendered all pretense of control as Quistis's breathless little pants grew deeper and then louder, verging on the screams that he knew were hiding in her. It seemed like she would rather pass out than cry out where someone might theoretically hear her, though Seifer didn't care about that when her hands were on his ass, pulling him into the rhythm they both needed to get off and then holding him deep inside as he came for what seemed like ages. She wasn't far behind and Seifer felt Quistis snap almost like a bowstring underneath him as her pleasure finally hit. He closed his eyes, feeling her shudder and tremble and then finally exhale a long, slow breath of deepest pleasure. Life was not just good right now, it was perfect.

 

For the first time in a rather long time, Quistis totally relaxed. She didn't worry about the time or anything that needed to be done, or places she had to be. Even knowing she was supposed to meet Selphie and Rinoa at some point didn't really penetrate the fog of intimacy and pleasure. Hearing how Seifer's breathing calmed, and feeling how his arms slid down to wrap around her waist and back made her smile. Almost more than lovemaking, she loved the little things afterward—the little subtle touches that pulled her close and reminded her that this was more than merely physical. Quistis let herself enjoy the contact for ten seconds... Then twenty... Then a whole minute before sighing and craning her head to check the time.

 

“Oh, damn,” she muttered, catching view of the clock. Either she hadn't been basking for a minute or everything had taken much longer than she'd anticipated. The time was now 10:22, which meant she had fifteen minutes at most to get showered, dressed, and get back to her hotel in time to meet the girls.

 

“Whuh?” Seifer sounded like he was falling asleep again.

 

“I have to go,” she said, pushing against his dead weight. Again. It was like they'd just woken up for the first time again.

 

“Rrrrgh...”

 

“I do really have to go,” said Quistis, making Seifer growl in exaggerated irritation and roll off her. As she sat up, she said, “I need to get a shower.”

 

At that, Seifer lifted his head. “Shower?” He asked, sounding intrigued.

 

Quistis couldn't help but laugh. She knew he'd never turn down an opportunity to see and touch her while naked. So she said, “You can join me, but you have to behave yourself.”

 

“Hmph.”

 

Quistis rolled her eyes and slid out of bed, a flush of pleasure going through her still as the residual feel of Seifer moving inside her seemed to surge with every step. In daylight, it was easy to spot the entrance to the bathroom, which was a very nearly over-the-top affair with everything sheathed in black marble and certain design elements highlighted in white. The shower stall was large and very fancy with multiple heads and glass walls, which promised interesting times if one didn't have to go anywhere. Quistis located the most businesslike faucet and turned it on, resulting in a spray of water that came down like a warm rain. It was _very_ nice and she wished she didn't need to go so soon. Oh well... This was only the second day of a weeklong vacation. She could surely sneak at least one luxurious shower into it.

 

Quistis was halfway through washing her hair when she heard the shower door click open and a second later, a gust of cool air sweep in. She smiled as Seifer reached for her and swore a little.

 

“Are you trying to cook yourself?” He asked, running his hand through the water without touching her.

 

“If it's too hot for your tender skin, you can always get out,” she said, too happy to care.

 

“Funny,” he said, and Quistis shook water from her eyes to see Seifer come fully inside and shut the door behind him. There was indeed a lot of steam inside the shower stall, but not so much that it obscured vision and Quistis blushed at the sight of Seifer fully nude in good lighting. She was so lucky. Meanwhile Seifer eyed the steam practically boiling off the water with distaste. Any hotter and you could sterilize medical equipment... But he did like the way Quistis looked underneath the spray, with shampoo lather running down her arms and neck in ways that highlighted her curves...

 

“Down, boy,” said Quistis as Seifer grinned at her with _that_ sort of look again.

 

Boy? Seifer was briefly offended, then decided to let it slide. He looked down himself and pointed at his halfway hard dick, saying, “You heard the lady.”

 

Quistis laughed aloud just like he knew she would. It was such wonderful to hear her relaxed and unworried about anything.

 

“Can I help you wash anything else?” Seifer asked, making her laugh again. “Hey, you said you have to be somewhere. It's more efficient, right?”

 

“Remember what I said about behaving yourself.”

 

“Sure thing,” he promised emptily, and he could see in Quistis's eyes that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Now Seifer struggled with twin impulses to have fun and to not be predictable, and in the end he decided to be oblique. He turned on one of the secondary showerheads and made Quistis jump when he used it to rinse her hair. She didn't seem to mind, instead humming pleasantly as she squeezed what seemed like sheets of water out of her thick blonde hair. Seifer waited until the last trace of soap was out before turning the spray on her pussy and making her jump again.

 

“Too hot for your tender skin?” He returned mockingly when she immediately swatted the showerhead away from her body. Quistis looked at him archly, grabbed another showerhead, and a second later Seifer was yelling as Quistis sprayed him with straight cold water. She didn't just get his dick either, she got his stomach and the insides of his thighs, all the places that liked to be warm no matter what. Seifer turned around with a half-formed idea of throwing the washcloth at her face, but then Quistis gasped and the cold water disappeared.

 

“Oh my god,” she gasped, reaching out. Seifer looked at her over his shoulder and felt her fingertips brush over his butt. “I'm so sorry.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Seifer asked, looking back as far as he was able. He was a certain amount of flexible but not exactly an acrobat, and he could just barely see the side of his own hip.

 

“You have these big bruises on your behind...”

 

“What? Oh,” said Seifer, remembering Quistis pinching him yesterday. “Don't worry about it.”

 

“They don't hurt?”

 

Seifer shrugged. He'd totally forgotten about them and even now with Quistis pointing them out, he was aware of them more as a fact than a presence. Quistis, however, looked absolutely mortified and Seifer could almost see her thinking that she was a terrible girlfriend.

 

“Look,” said Seifer, and shut off the water in the shower. Making sure he had her attention, Seifer pulled a small ball of fire to the tip of his finger and then brushed it over his behind, approximately where he thought the bruises might be. Two sunbursts of further warmth went through his behind, but faded in a second, and when Quistis looked at him again, the bruises were gone.

 

“Not a big deal,” he told her, and when Quistis still looked upset, kissed her on the forehead. “If it makes you feel better, I can spank you later.”

 

“Don't you dare,” said Quistis, nevertheless starting to smile a little.

 

“Hey, we got a whole week. We could try some things. Maybe see how you like being on the business end of a whip... Or one of those little velvet flails... I'm sure we can find fuzzy handcuffs or something too.”

 

“I'll turn the cold water on you again.”

 

“Hee hee hee.”

 

Afterward they got out, dried off, and dressed to go out. Despite the activities of the morning, Seifer was still sleepy enough to yawn in the elevator all the way down to the lobby, making Quistis chuckle as she held his hand. While she was still uncertain about the strength of his disguise, the somewhat bored cleaning staff they'd encountered in the hall had treated them like any other horny couple and that laid most of Quistis's fears about discovery to rest. Even though the eyebrow waggling from the one matronly lady had made her blush and look down at the floor.

 

“What are your normal hours if you're sleepy at this time of day?” Quistis asked Seifer teasingly.

 

“1800 to 1000,” he said, making her blink and then frown. “I'm nocturnal these days. Honestly, it works out better. I'm actually on time for stuff.”

 

“It helps that you can make your own schedule too, I'm sure.”

 

“Mmhmm.” Seifer rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I'll go get some breakfast... Midnight snack... Food.”

 

“ _And maybe see if I can pick up a job or two... I tied up all my loose ends in FH, but I can't live on that money forever.”_

 

“I'm going to be out with the girls until probably 9 or 10,” said Quistis, making him look at her in surprise. “I'd like to see you afterwards, if you're not too tired.”

 

“I'll be fine,” he said. “What about you? Shopping for hours and hours... Ugh.”

 

“Oh, it's probably not going to be all shopping,” said Quistis, but when Seifer snickered, she looked at him. “What?”

 

“I just remember the last time I went 'shopping' with Rinoa,” he said, leaning in the corner and closing his eyes.

 

“Was that the bookstore incident you two were fighting about?”

 

“Look, if she makes me go around a mall for five hours, I get to spend at _least_ that long sitting down in a bookstore.” As Quistis laughed, Seifer opened his eyes and said, “Tomorrow. What are you doing?”

 

“Monday? I have nothing planned.”

 

“Then I'm taking you to Daguerreo. Best bookstore in the world.” Seifer smiled, looking genuinely pleased. “I'll even wake up early.”

 

“So you mean before noon, then.”

 

“I said what I said,” Seifer retorted. Quistis laughed again and Seifer started to get excited, saying, “They have a nice cafe there too with trees and this view of the water... It'll be great. I promise.”

 

“Then I'll look forward to it,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as the elevator doors opened. They walked out of the elevator together. It was Seifer's intention to see Quistis off into a taxi back to her place, but he heard a familiar voice calling and turned to see Selphie and Rinoa waving at them from the lounge area of the lobby.

 

“I thought you were meeting them at 11,” he said as Quistis looked at the girls in surprise.

 

“I was,” she said, tilting her head. “I wonder why they're here.”

 

“Hellooo,” Selphie sang out as they approached. She was in disguise again today but instead of a long brown wig she was wearing a blonde one that gave her a voluminous golden ponytail. Selphie gave Quistis a hug and said, “We figured since we knew where you were staying and since the afternoon tea here is sooo good, we'd just eat here and then take off. Sounds good?”

 

“Well, yes, but—”

 

“Don't worry, we'll stop by your place so you can change. Hi, Zero!”

 

“Hi, Selphie,” said Seifer, equal parts amused and uncomfortable. She gave him a smile with unsettlingly piercing eyes, making him feel like things were crawling over his skin. Did she know who he was? No... She wouldn't. Seifer thought he'd been pretty subtle.

 

“Wanna join us for tea?” She asked, gesturing at the delicate-looking teacups and insultingly small sandwiches arranged on a tiered platter.

 

“No,” he said, eyeing the arrangement with disfavor. “But thanks for asking. I'll let you girls have a nice time.” To Quistis, he said, “Meet you back here at 9?”

 

“Let's say 10,” she said. “Just so we're not rushed.”

 

“Rushed! How much shopping are you planning to do?”

 

“Lots,” said Selphie, giggling. “Window shopping, at least.”

 

“Blugh.” What was the point in obsessing over something you weren't going to get? Seifer kissed Quistis on the forehead and turned to go, but as he moved, he happened to catch Rinoa's eye and realized with a start that her eyes were glowing. It was subtle, but there was a faint red glow right around her pupils and a blue-white glow that came out of her corneas. That was all the time Seifer had time for before his vision suddenly went blue all over with millions of little white dots like feathers or stars. It took a second and an eternity, but despite the difference in colors, Seifer knew exactly what had happened and a sudden swell of panic and fury burned the all-encompassing globe of a sorceress's _look_ to tatters. Edea had _looked_ at him multiple times just like that, usually when his paranoia was running high and neither of them were convinced that some trace of Ultimecia didn't remain. A _look_ was sort of like a more advanced Scan and correspondingly felt much more invasive if the other party wasn't prepared.

 

To Selphie and Quistis, it looked like Seifer had just started glaring at Rinoa like he wanted to kill her. To Rinoa, the lazily curling golden aura she had been studying suddenly flared and shimmered like flames off a jet engine, making the air around it ripple with heat.

 

Seifer stepped around Quistis and grabbed Rinoa's shoulder, remembering at the last second not to squeeze. He saw from the shock on her face that she hadn't meant to _look_ at him so thoroughly, but nobody jumped all over his boundaries like that. Fortunately he tended to cover up entirely, so the light from the palimpset-like scars cut all over him was hidden and drew no extra attention. Stupid, careless Rinoa! She could have outed them both with just a _look._ Seifer had no idea that Rinoa had seen lights flickering along the backs of his hands and knew what they meant.

 

“What the hell was that for?” He hissed, oblivious to Quistis and Selphie looking at him in shock.

 

“I'm sorry,” Rinoa squeaked out. “I didn't know you could tell.”

 

“That makes it even worse,” Seifer snarled softly, feeling his eyes heat up. He breathed hard, imagining stuffing the fires back. The coat didn't keep those off the cameras. The problems never ended. “What the fuck makes you think that doing that shit on _me_ without my permission was okay?”

 

Rinoa opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, looking stricken. Seifer had never wanted to hit her before but now his pulse was speeding up, seemingly shouting in his ears to get the Sorceress before she turned him inside out again. But this was not Ultimecia. This was Rinoa. Silly, too-nice Rinoa. Seifer took a deep breath, trying to settle himself, but _damn it._ Edea had always been so careful about telling him what was happening or letting him know if she was going to do something that it had never occurred to him that Rinoa wouldn't do the same. Fuck!

 

“Dear?”

 

That voice, combined with that endearment, made Seifer blink and turn around, his ire ebbing away. Quistis looked at him with worry, but for a second he saw Edea. It was bizarre.

 

“Are you alright?” Quistis asked, touching his arm. It took all of Seifer's self-control not to jerk away. Instead he concentrated on her touch. It was light. It asked nothing. She was just concerned.

 

“ _And I misheard something and had a weird flash, that's all,”_ Seifer told himself. _“I only saw Matron because Quistis used her word. That's it. I'm not enchanted anymore. Matron said I wasn't. And I believe her.”_ Mostly because opening himself to the alternative was too terrifying.

 

“I'm... I'm fine,” Seifer said, swallowing. As he straightened and let go of Rinoa's shoulder, he said, “D-did you just call me...?”

 

Quistis blushed. “I'm sorry. Do you not like it?”

 

Seifer exhaled hard. _My dear knight. My dear son._ Except Quistis didn't have that selfish, acquisitive tone to her voice. She said the word like Edea said it, as light and soft as the touch of a feather. Still...

 

“We'll talk about that later,” he said, mentally shaking off the cobwebs. He was just tired... Yeah, that was it. He was tired, not disproportionately freaked out by sorcery. Just tired. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to go back to sleep, but almost at once something inside Seifer rebelled at the idea of doing nothing or willingly ignoring reality even for an hour. So even though thought a nap might stave off a possible jaunt into madness, Seifer decided to stay awake and prove he could make himself stay sane. He _could_. To Quistis, he said, “See you at 10. Have a good time. And... Rin.”

 

“Yes?” The darkhaired girl was wincing under the weight of her offense.

 

He turned around and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Dial back the witchworks. Your eyes are glowing.”

 

Seifer left the girls immediately after that. The weather outside was on the warm side for fall but Seifer felt cold and hunched into his coat, which he was wearing grey side out today. Without much thought he started to run. Back on the White SeeD Ship, whenever it got too much to be around Edea and the endless apologies coming out of the face that had hurt him so badly, Seifer would excuse himself from 'talk time' and run around the deck. He still hated running. He hated the way it jarred his body, he hated how pointlessly sweaty he got, he hated that if he did it for long enough, the inside of his chest would start to burn and rasp with every breath. Seifer hated how wretched and tired he felt after a run, but at least while the scenery was blurring by, while the wind was rushing, he was getting away from _her._ The pounding of his feet on the pavement and the sound of his own breathing covered up the mocking phantom laugh that sometimes still came on him when he was awake.

 

“ _Someday I'm going to believe she's really dead and gone... Someday soon. Damn it, I just don't have_ time _for this shit! I've got a business to run, rivals to stay ahead of, people after my head, and I_ still _haven't found my girlfriend a birthday present.”_

 

The last thing was was stupid, but also just distracting enough to work. Deliberately steering himself onto a more lighthearted path, Seifer decided that maybe shopping for a few hours wasn't such a bad thing after all and he headed towards the arcade.

 

In Seifer's mind, the main avenues wouldn't have anything nearly fitting enough for Quistis, who had always been more than merely smart or pretty or dangerous. Combining that with her interest in blue magic and ancient manuscripts and how happy she'd been in Dollet made Seifer wander up and down Cat Street, which was full of antiques authentic and not, and he spent a good few hours looking through pawn shops and consignment stores too. Most of what he found was junk, but some of it was highly entertaining and mysterious junk that Seifer found himself almost snarking at aloud before he remembered he was alone. Fujin and Raijin would have had a blast with places like these. The three of them would have come up with all sorts of explanations as for why someone would have taken the time to make candles that looked and smelled like various cheeses of the world, or create a crystal chandelier that had its glittering drops carved into skull shapes.

 

It took the better part of a day before Seifer at last wandered into a rock shop purely because it was shiny. While he was recharging his eyes in a store with showroom lighting and polished fossils adding interest among the gemstones, he saw something that seemed like it might finally fit the bill. It looked like a small shell of some kind, maybe two and a half centimeters across at its widest point and filled with a dazzling array of colors that seemed better suited to a jewel. Interestingly it had been set as a necklace, with a thin hinge going all the way around and a very small hook up at the top.

 

“What sort of jewel is this?” Seifer asked of the shop boy when he came by.

 

“It's not precisely a jewel,” said the seller, opening the case and taking out the piece in question. “Sometimes over the course of millions of years, deposits of agate or opal will fill the insides of old ammonites like this one and create a gem matrix inside a shell. We have some larger pieces in the back if you're interested.”

 

“No,” said Seifer, studying the necklace up close. It was a distractingly pretty piece unlike anything he had seen before, though Seifer wouldn't exactly call himself a jewelry man. Nevertheless he was already picturing how the brilliant hues of the jewel-filled shell would glow against Quistis's fair skin, as well as match the depth and complexity of her already gemlike eyes. Plus, it was a locket. A bit of fiddling made the small ammonite pop into discreetly hinged halves with a very tiny compartment inside, but it was still perfect as far as Seifer was concerned.

 

“ _Not to mention that it's sort of an animal artifact, which seems like the sort of thing a blue mage would be into...”_

 

“I'll take it,” said Seifer, handing the necklace back to the shop boy.

 

The shop boy rang up the necklace and Seifer left with the necklace in a long box and a little card about how ammonites just like these had once been thought of as having special powers. He felt pretty good. It was just shopping, but the feeling of accomplishment and the pleasure from a mundane task felt pretty nice. For the rest of the day, Seifer purposefully lost himself in average happinesses and amusements, pretending that literally the most important thing in the world was how his girlfriend would react to a birthday present...

 

...and not how he was wanted across multiple countries...

 

...or how he still had nightmares of a sorceress beyond space and time...

 

...and how he still jumped whenever that sort of power came anywhere near him...

 

No. Today Seifer Almasy was normal. And he was going to hold onto that for as long as he possibly could, until whatever time the world told him that he couldn't enjoy such things anymore. And if that time ever came, fuck it. He'd been through enough.

 

“ _I deserve to be happy.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: May miss an update or two in the upcoming future. Do not be alarmed. I am only going to be squeezing a small human through my pelvis.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	22. Sidestory 2

There was nothing quite so satisfying and exhausting as a good day of shopping in Rinoa's mind—not because of the buying aspect, but rather the 'goading people into buying things' aspect. Rinoa had gotten two dresses, a gauzy babydoll slip, and a pair of shoes, but she had successfully cajoled Selphie into buying four dresses, three pairs of shoes, and jewelry that coordinated with everything. At the same time, Rinoa had also managed to convince Quistis that lingerie was a solid investment, teal was a perfectly legitimate color for someone past age 12, and no, Quistis was NOT too tall to wear four-inch heels. Anybody who said otherwise was far too easily intimidated and not bothering with.

 

In a way, it was hard for Rinoa not to take advantage of her friends. Selphie was from the boondocks and Quistis was practically from the moon when it came to fashion things, so Rinoa did her best to tenderly guide them into getting good things rather than merely flashy things, which was an uphill battle where Selphie was concerned. Still, it was nice for Rinoa to know that she did one thing better than the two hypercompetent combat veterans and that they genuinely enjoyed and appreciated her advice. It wasn't just SeeD boys who missed out on the fun things in life.

 

At any rate it had been a wonderful day even with the scare with Seifer in the beginning. Rinoa tried not to dwell on her mistake too much especially since she'd been studying her grimoire every night, telling herself that this only meant there was more to learn. And that was fine. Still, glowing eyes? Those would be hard to hide for long. While out on the town, Rinoa had tried on multiple pairs of sunglasses and tinted reading specs, but she couldn't exactly wear glasses all the time without people asking her why.

 

“ _Maybe tinted contacts... Really heavily tinted contacts...”_

 

But the day was over now and Rinoa was looking forward to celebrating the end of it with her boyfriend, who was hopefully no longer hung over. Poor Squall had been up and down all night between a horrible headache, barfing, and body aches, and in the end Rinoa had pulled out her grimoire and tried a little spell to make Squall less sick. It had actually worked, but the downside was that Squall slept like the dead afterwards and wouldn't wake up for breakfast or lunch. Some tweaking was definitely in order. Fortunately he'd texted her in the middle of the day to tell her he was alright and thank you so much for being so considerate, which had made both Selphie and Quistis go 'aww'. Squall was still very awkward when it came to normal human interactions and in a majority of cases, fell back on formality. Not that it wasn't sweet still.

 

“Irvy does that too,” said Selphie, dimpling. “Except it's little notes all over the apartment.”

 

“How is living together going?” Quistis asked, hiding a streak of judgment she was too polite to make known. Rinoa could understand. When Selphie and Irvine had originally announced their plan to live together, Rinoa had thought they were being premature—after all, they were just starting to date. But Selphie had told her in private conversation that just because she and Irvine were living together didn't mean they were sleeping together, and actually none of that had happened until about four months in. So they weren't going fast, they just looked like they were going fast, which seemed par for the course when it came to Selphie and Irvine. To the wide world they had certain reputations for being silly and impulsive, but friends and family knew they could be a lot more thoughtful and introspective than people gave them credit for. Especially Selphie, who seemed to have a lot going on behind those big bright green eyes.

 

“Pretty good!” said Selphie, sounding genuinely pleased. “We're both neat people... But then he does things like sticking his loose hairs to the walls in the shower so it doesn't end up down the drain, and then I leave teacups and mugs everywhere. Usually half-full. Or empty. So it works out. We're thinking about getting a dog. What? Why are you two laughing so hard?”

 

Well, why not? Rinoa knew she was laughing because 1, it was Selphie and 2, she was envious. Eight months in and she and Squall still weren't closer in ways that she wanted, and she was starting to wonder if things would ever change. The dark-haired sorceress consoled herself with Quistis's situation, which seemed like the worst combination of a house of cards and a pile of dynamite even without the whole international fugitive angle. Seifer had been a very nice boyfriend...for a month. And in short bursts like this, Quistis would never learn otherwise. Rinoa contemplated telling her about Seifer's wretched bad temper when he lost board games, how he turned into a rage demon when he was stuck in traffic, and especially how offended he got when he was told, 'no, I don't want you to do that for me' when he did know how to do something better.

 

“ _But on the other hand, what's the point? Quistis is smart... She'll figure it out sometime...”_

 

At least Rinoa and Squall could see each other regularly, and Rinoa told herself that that was a good thing as she went into her house, tossed her purchases into her room, and went in search of her boyfriend. She found him in the living room on his laptop, working on something that he nevertheless looked up from immediately as soon as she entered.

 

“Hi babe,” she said, smiling; he looked 100% healthy again.

 

“Hi Rin,” he said, setting his laptop aside and getting up at once. It was the little things like this that made Rinoa's heart swell; most past boyfriends would wait for her to come to them, but Squall never did. It was like he couldn't wait to see her and touch her. As Squall hugged her close and nuzzled her hair, he asked, “Did you have fun?”

 

“I did,” said Rinoa, smiling as she looped her arms around his neck. “And I got a surprise for you...”

 

“You did?” Squall seemed intrigued, which was exactly how she hoped he'd react. She couldn't wait until he saw the slip; if she was lucky, he might even get a nosebleed. Rinoa grinned, a little bit of a purr entering her voice.

 

“Oh yeah,” she said, rising up on her toes for a kiss. “And—”

 

“Did you max out your card or mine?” Fury asked from somewhere nearby, and Squall instantly sprang away from Rinoa like she was red-hot, his face turning scarlet and his arms snapping to his sides like there were magnets. Rinoa blinked and then looked at him flatly, though her real annoyed look was for her father when Fury came in, wearing pajama pants and a tee and heading for the refrigerator. When Squall was interacting with Fury in a professional capacity there was zero awkwardness, but that ease absolutely did not carry over to social situations. Part of it was that Squall really liked Rinoa and didn't want to screw up her still-thawing relationship with her dad, but most of it was that Squall had never dated anyone before and his only cues for this kind of interaction came from “don'ts” rather than “do's” that he got from Zell, who was so 'good boy' in his dating advice that it made Rinoa twitch a bit. On the other hand, the alternative was taking dating advice from Irvine and Rinoa would not have put it past the long-haired sniper to give Squall joke advice just because he knew the brunet would not know when he was being messed with. Briefly Rinoa wondered what Seifer had told Squall in the bar last night and hoped it hadn't been too personal. Or straight-up wrong. Seifer liked to prank almost as much as Irvine did.

 

“I didn't max out either card and I used my own money, thanks,” said Rinoa, looking at her father. “What are you still doing up?”

 

“I'm hungry,” said Fury, opening the refrigerator door and rummaging around. Rinoa rolled her eyes as he pulled out a jar of marinated artichoke hearts and roasted red peppers and started scooping them out with his fingers to eat them. “Don't tell Dr. Leonard.”

 

“Ugh, I can see it now; 'sorry, kids, you never got to meet Granddad because he couldn't lay off the oily foods',” said Rinoa, sighing. She meant it as a joke but then happened to see Squall turn even more red and stiff and Fury chuckle. Rinoa narrowed her eyes in suspicion and looked at Fury more closely.

 

“What did you say to my boyfriend?”

 

“Nothing,” said Fury innocently. Rinoa kept glaring until finally he chuckled and said, “Just that there's no getting on top of my daughter while he's under my roof.”

 

“DaaaAaad!” Rinoa screeched, mortification and frustration fighting to vent first. Fury had no idea that nothing of the sort had ever happened and she could only imagine how his words had compounded Squall's complex about sex.

 

“My house, my rules,” said Fury, scooping out another artichoke heart. “And my money paying for your birth control. I thought you had cramps.”

 

“I DO have cramps!” Rinoa shouted, putting her hands on her hips. “You know what also works great for cramps? SEX.”

 

Squall speed-walked out of the room, as red as a tomato. Rinoa threw her hands up while Fury continued to eat his snack, looking very satisfied.

 

“Seriously, Dad—”

 

“Is it really that unreasonable?” Fury asked mildly. “I'm not telling you not to do anything, I simply request that your boyfriend keep his hands to himself. I could lock him in his room, you know.”

 

“I know,” said Rinoa, grinding her teeth. Unfortunately she didn't think Squall would have Seifer's gumption and scale the outside of her house, but if she was being fair, Fury was really not being unreasonable. She could recognize that. Rinoa could also recognize that the root of her irritation didn't have to do with her father at all, but the longer she looked at him snacking in the kitchen, the more she wanted to throw something at him, so she turned on her heel and stalked out. Unbeknowest to Rinoa, Fury blinked as the jar vanished from his hand, and when he frowned and re-opened the refrigerator, it sat back in its place on the middle shelf, cap securely fastened.

 

“Hmm,” said Fury Caraway, who had been promoted based on his ability to research and find sorceresses.

 

Meanwhile Rinoa went up to Squall's room. When staying in Caraway's mansion, the two of them slept in separate rooms and when she went there, Squall was pacing at the foot of his bed, still somewhat embarrassed. Rinoa looked at him speculatively before she kicked the door shut behind her, making Squall turn in surprise.

 

“C'mere, loverboy,” said Rinoa, crossing the room and grabbing the cross of his belt buckles. Squall yelped a bit as she slung him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, kissing him before he could get out more than two syllables of objection. She felt his words melt into lust-addled mush as she kissed him and slid her body over his, and Rinoa felt like laughing as she felt his hands come up along her sides, rest on her back...

 

...and then abruptly grab her shoulders and push her off. Rinoa stared as Squall all but threw himself off the bed and fell ungracefully to the floor with a loud thud.

 

“Really?” She demanded as Squall pushed himself up into a sitting position.

 

“I-it feels weird,” he stammered, all awkward teenage boy. Specifically a thirteen-year-old teenage boy who thought boobs were a magical fantasy and anything beyond was simply unattainable.

 

Something bitter surged in Rinoa's chest. With a noise that was more snarl than growl, Rinoa got out of bed, pointedly taking the opposite side from Squall.

 

“What?” He asked, sounding confused.

 

“Wh—” Rinoa took a deep breath and exhaled. “Squall, I love you and I don't want you to go away. But at the same time, I am really annoyed and I need some time right now, so I'm going to take a bath.”

 

“Oh...” Squall sounded worried, his voice going softer and lighter with confusion. He was so clueless. “Okay. Should I do anything?”

 

“No,” said Rinoa evenly. “Thank you.”

 

“Okay.”

 

The bathrooms in the mansion were all rather nice, but the one that Rinoa had claimed as her own special one had a deep clawfoot tub that Rinoa could lie down in. Rinoa was serious about her baths and over the years had amassed a collection of scented oils and bubble solutions that she liked to cocktail together for different effects. Today she was definitely after relaxation, so Rinoa turned the tub on to hot and concentrated on pouring in careful amounts of bath oils that smelled like toffee, burnt vanilla, chocolate, and just a little bit of ylang ylang to offset the cloying sweetness. As the delicious smells filled the air and bubbled bloomed in the running water, a click made Rinoa look up and she saw Squall poke his head into the bathroom.

 

“Can I come in?” He asked softly.

 

“Yes,” said Rinoa. She wasn't feeling any better, but Squall did not react well to being shut out in any capacity and as he all but tiptoed in, Rinoa started to feel ashamed of her pique. Coming close to the thundering water, Squall sat on the bathtub edge next to Rinoa and looked at her with a naïve teenager's eyes.

 

“What did I do to make you angry?” He asked, barely audible above the thundering water.

 

“I'm not angry. Just...very annoyed.” Rinoa ran her hand through the bubbles, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. “I love you, Squall. But I also want you, badly, and it's like we're not on the same page about that. And I hate bringing it up because it makes you upset, but getting physical is really important to me.”

 

“I'm sorry,” said Squall in that soft, hurt tone she just couldn't bear to hear. He looked at the floor, saying, “I don't know why it's so hard for me.”

 

“Can you really not think of a single reason?” Rinoa asked, making Squall flinch. “I don't want you to feel bad about things, but I'm kind of going crazy over here and at the risk of too much information, it's been like a solid year and a half since I had any—oh, forget it,” she sighed as Squall's shoulders tightened. “Look, I'm sorry I brought it up. Again.”

 

“I don't want you to have to bring it up,” said Squall in a whisper, sounding utterly miserable. “I want it to not be a problem. But I don't want to just get it over with, either. That's not... That's not good. And what if it's really bad? So bad that you're just...done? Forever?”

 

“Oh babe, you're not the first virgin I've ever had,” said Rinoa, making Squall look at her sidelong. “And... Truth be told... I'm pretty sure you can't get worse than Seifer.”

 

All expression fell off Squall's face and he turned to look at her fully, wide-eyed and stunned. Rinoa started smiling from nerves, schadenfreude, and the possibility that she might have finally cracked the secret of Squall's reluctance.

 

“Seifer?” He repeated, confused. “You mean... He wasn't...?”

 

“Oh no,” said Rinoa, shaking her head. “Don't get me wrong, he knew some things, but he definitely didn't know all of them. Especially when we got down to the nitty-gritty. He had no idea what to do but kept pretending like he did, like he thought I wouldn't notice. And then he shot off early.” Rinoa started giggling as she added, “And then he got so embarrassed he literally tried to run away.”

 

Squall's eyes got even rounder. Rinoa's giggles became uncontrollable at the poleaxed look on his face.

 

“I swear,” Rinoa said, laughing aloud. She could almost see it like it was yesterday, Seifer as awkward as she had ever seen him, so red it looked like he was gonna have an apoplectic attack, taking her confusion for disappointment—but really, 17 years old, looking like he did, and a virgin? Now Rinoa knew better—for most SeeD boys, there was simply no time for the fun things in life—but back then as a somewhat shortsighed 16-year-old, she'd actually stared at Seifer and exclaimed, “What the hell?”

 

“ _And I never really apologized for that... Oops.”_

 

“I swear, Seifer was _this_ close to opening up the window and jumping off the mobile base while we were moving,” said Rinoa, making Squall's mouth fall open slightly. “I talked him down eventually, but really—babe, trust me. There is no first time that's gonna be worse than that. It's a first time! Why do you expect you have to be perfect at it?”

 

Squall looked away, which made Rinoa scoot right up next to him and put her head on his shoulder, smiling as her annoyance with him faded to nothing.

 

“I love you,” she reminded him.

 

“I love you too,” Squall muttered, turning pink in the face.

 

“Will you take a bath with me?” She asked, nuzzling his ear.

 

“...okay.”

 

Rinoa let a little water out of the tub so it wouldn't overflow and they undressed, Rinoa laughing as the sight of her naked body made Squall blush all the way down to his chest. Little white scars stood out like stars on his shoulders and arms, and when they climbed into the tub (Squall first so Rinoa could lean against him), she watched more of the shiny, slick marks appear as his skin became redder from the heat.

 

“Where'd you get this one from?” Rinoa asked, drawing her fingertip along a long mark on Squall's forearm.

 

“Seifer.”

 

“What about this one?”

 

“Seifer.”

 

“...This one?”

 

“Seifer.”

 

She turned around and looked at Squall incredulously. “He hit you that often?”

 

“We start working with live steel immediately,” said Squall, shrugging. “Accidents happen. And Seifer got really big really fast. I don't think he knew his own strength a lot of the time.”

 

“Still...”

 

Squall knew automatically that Rinoa wouldn't get it; civilians never understood the extremely rough-and-tumble way that SeeD students behaved with each other, often mistaking it for abuse or homicidal intent.

 

“I think he thought he was looking out for me,” said Squall slowly, making Rinoa cock her head. “When he wasn't right, he'd say things like... 'Aren't you glad I kicked your ass so often? You wouldn't be as tough without me'. He was just... Short-tempered. And he hated looking like a nice guy.”

 

“That sounds like him,” Rinoa murmured, thinking of the boy she'd dated. She sighed and turned back to face front, leaning back to rest against Squall's back and unaccountably pleased at the sight of her knees and Squall's together in the bath, barely visible behind mounds of fluffy bubbles. Squall's arms were still up on either side of the tub, so Rinoa reached up and pulled them down into the bath, making him wrap his arms around her. Squall tensed a bit, but relaxed when she didn't try to move his hands anywhere.

 

“...Rin?”

 

“Yeah, babe?”

 

“I know you like these sort of things to be spontaneous, but... I don't like that.” Squall shifted behind her, obviously uncomfortable and yet all Rinoa could think of was that he was warm and close by and that there was nothing between them. The slickness of the bath oils against their skin turned what was already a sensuous glide into something even more enticing. Nevertheless Rinoa held herself back and made herself listen as Squall talked softly, his voice a near whisper in her ear. “I get worried. I start thinking too much. You know that already.”

 

“Mm-hmm.”

 

“So... I know it's been a long time. And I'm sorry about that. But... Can you wait? Just until the first day of New Year?”

 

Rinoa blinked. Then she squeaked as Squall hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder.

 

“I'd just feel better if... If there was a plan,” he said quietly.

 

A plan? Rinoa tried to wrap her head around that even as a smile started to creep up her lips. It was so weird to her to plan something that she'd always thought should be spontaneous and romantic, but the longer she thought about it, the more it made sense. Squall liked plans. And he'd obviously been building this up in his head like some sort of elaborate operation...

 

“ _Two more months... Well, at least I know the end is in sight. Better than waiting around and getting more and more upset...”_

 

Plus, two entire months of foreplay? Hmm... Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Even if it was around New Year...

 

“ _Rinny, Daddy has some very bad news... Mommy is...”_

 

“Okay, Squall,” said Rinoa, turning her head to kiss his temple. “I'll look forward to it.”

 

The rattling sigh of relief that came out of him made Rinoa realize how nervous he had been and her heart ached with a combination of affection and pity. He got into his head so deep sometimes. Rinoa laughed softly as Squall hugged her hard and kissed her on the shoulder.

 

“That doesn't count as a present, does it?” he asked her, making her blink and then laugh aloud.

 

“No, it doesn't,” said Rinoa, snuggling against him. “It's an experience. A memory. And those are way, way better. At the same time...”

 

“...yes?”

 

“We are naked in a bath together... And that doesn't happen very often...”

 

“...I guess that's true,” said Squall in a warm, low tone that made Rinoa laugh. And then gasp as his arms eased and his hands started to drift to decidedly less chaste places with the lust that she knew thrummed in his veins. Two more months of this? Definitely not bad at all.

/\/\/\

 

a/n: No babby yet. T-minus 6 days until formal due date.

 

Since we are at the start of a brand new year, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has come by to read, review, like, and kudo these stories. Without these avenues of communication I would not have made so many new friends and gotten to know so many lovely people, and I hope that in 2016, more good things come to enrich this fandom we love so much. See you (maybe?) next week!

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	23. Chapter 23

To: Zero

cc: Nagi

 

From: Nami

 

Glad you're having a good time with your girlfriend. You should bring her to FH. We'll be there for your birthday and she can catch up with M&C too. And then we can do real hangout time and see if she's actually good enough for you.

 

Thinking about leaving the boat. Micah still doesn't get that I'm aroace and keeps bugging me, thinking it'll change my mind somehow. Told M&C. They don't get it either and keep telling me to give him a chance. If he keeps ticking me off I might 'accidentally' slit his throat in the next pirate attack we have. Wish you two were around. I got so much less shit when people automatically assumed we were poly, even if all the DP/DC jokes got real old, real fast.

 

/\

 

To: Nami

cc: Zero

 

From: Nagi

 

Throat-slitting is messy, just shove him over the side.

 

If you leave the boat, you should stay with me. My firm's doing a lot of cool stuff with alt energy sources, including wind turbines. How cool is that?

 

Also I met a guy. His name is Poltag. He's an engineer at the firm. We went out for coffee and lunch and he wants a third date, but I don't know how I feel about that. I think I'd feel better if you two met him and made sure he was okay, you know? He's cute and all, but he's also kinda pushy and guilt-trippy. Without getting too much into it, he basically said 'If you really liked me, you'd XXX' and that's why I'm worried about a third date. Miss you guys.

 

/\

 

To: Nagi

cc: Nami

 

From: Zero

 

Poltag is going on the list. Do you want me to come back sooner? I know you can do it but I can do it with a lot less mess and absolutely no guilt. Plus I wanna see if I can make just a heart explode and where it'd vent. Proof of death is way easier when there's actually a face people can identify.

 

I'm leaving the City as soon as Q's done with her vacation. It's fun to visit but there are three Guilds here plus SeeD, so there's no real work to be found. Thinking about Esthar, even though I hate to think how insular they're going to be. 18 years with closed borders... I bet you there's some Assassin's Guild BS going on, but at least I'll be dealing with a whole country rather than one city.

 

Gonna pitch birthday week to Q. If she says yes, can I ask you guys a favor? Don't be nice. Be normal. This thing we have, it's long-distance and weird and I want it to work, which means it has to be strong. Which means pulling no punches. Don't be mean, exactly, but I don't want another Shari/Oleane/Vonda/etc situation. Girls come and go, the Posse is forever.

 

/\/\/\

 

“Again.”

 

Quistis chuckled and shuffled the cards, shaking her head. “Seifer, you don't have any more clothes to lose.”

 

“Again, damn it!” Seifer snapped, slightly red in the face. He wasn't sure what was more embarrassing, losing five rounds in five minutes or the fact that Quistis had warned him repeatedly that playing Triple Triad against her was a bad idea and he'd forged on ahead anyway. For her part, Quistis was very amused. She remembered being in Seifer's place (well, with clothes on) against Dr. Kadowaki and Xu, and they had used the rational, mathematical allure and careful strategy of Triple Triad to gradually bring her out of her shell. Later they'd encouraged her to start playing other people, which how Quistis had finally started getting along with people her own age. And just like Quistis had not told Seifer about her true skill, Asano Kadowaki and Xu had never told Quistis that they were the King and Queen of the Balamb Garden Card Club until she'd managed to take both their titles. Keeping mum about the Kingship was an unspoken rule Quistis kept to now to avoid discouraging less skilled players as well as curbing the number of people who'd try to challenge her for the prestige of her fame. But that didn't mean Quistis didn't play for fun every now and then, especially when her opponent was... Interesting.

 

It was pouring buckets outside, which was why Quistis and Seifer were holed up in her small hotel room and playing cards on her bed until it was time to have dinner with Selphie and Irvine. Selphie had _insisted,_ which in this case actually meant treading the fine line between 'annoying friend' and 'legal harassment'. Since she seemed genuinely interested in getting to know 'Zero', Seifer and Quistis had decided to give in for one dinner rather than trying to dodge Selphie in her own city. Plus, free food.

 

“Well, I'll say this,” Quistis said, handing Seifer five cards at random out of her deck. “You're a better loser than Squall is. Every time I take cards from him, he gets angry.”

 

“What, over cards?” Seifer looked at Quistis incredulously.

 

“What did he say... Oh yes, 'They're mine, I earned them'.” Quistis chuckled and tapped a card against her lips, saying, “And now they're mine because I earned them from him.”

 

“How many did you take from him?” Seifer asked, still trying to wrap his head around Squall getting angry over _cards._

 

“Not that many. Just a bunch of his face cards.” She grinned. “And he still tries to get them back when he's bored.”

 

“So he's never beaten you?” Seifer asked, feeling a bit better about things.

 

“He has occasionally, but only when the rules skew heavily in his favor,” said Quistis with a light sigh. “Percentage-wise, he has a lot more face cards than I do, so if we can choose every card, my values are typically at a disadvantage. If the selection is random, however, I destroy him every single time. Which reminds me... Now that you don't have any more clothes to lose, what are you going to wager?”

 

“Hmm...” Seifer rubbed his chin. “Sexual favors?”

 

“Something more personal,” said Quistis even as she blushed oh so prettily.

 

“Sing you a song?”

 

“Hmm... Okay. But something funny.”

 

“Not romantic?”

 

Quistis flipped a gil coin (she always chose heads) and as it spun in the air, she watched it go and said, “I'm afraid I'll take it too seriously.”

 

“...Point taken,” said Seifer, watching the gil coin hit the blanket. Tails. Shoving his doubts off to the side (was she afraid to say she was in love? Was she actually in love?) Seifer concentrated on the game and forced himself not to get too excited about the high values in his hand. Seifer played as carefully as possible and for a second it looked like they were going to have a draw, but then Quistis set down a freaking GESPER card that set a chain reaction across the board and Seifer found himself staring at another loss. Fuck!

 

“Time to sing now,” said Quistis, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.

 

Fortunately, Seifer knew at least one funny song that would transform his loss into a victory of sorts, mostly because it would make Quistis blush until she threw something at him, and that was sort of winning. He grinned at her, already anticipating a pillow to the face.

 

“ _You don't always have to fuck her hard,_

_In fact sometimes that's not right to do._

_Sometimes you've got to make some love_

_And fuckin' give her some smoochies too.”_

 

And then Seifer couldn't sing anymore as Quistis's eyes got as round as saucers and her face turned as red as a fire engine.

 

“What sort of song is that?!” She demanded as Seifer threw back his head and laughed.

 

“You asked for a funny song! Wait, wait, wait... Here's the best part.” He took a deep breath but still couldn't stop himself from laughing as he sang with as much expression and verve as he could,

 

“ _I 'm gonna fuck you softly_

 _I'm gonna screw you gently_  
I'm gonna hump you sweetly  
I'm gonna ball you discreetly—”

 

Every line made Quistis's face turn redder and redder until she broke through embarrassment and started laughing helplessly, clutching her sides as Seifer did his best to make the song even more ridiculous than it was. It was only when she started gasping that she couldn't breathe that he let off, grinning broadly at her.

 

“I win,” he told her.

 

“You win _that,”_ she sighed, wiping her eyes. “Where did you even learn that sort of song?”

 

“One of my exes was into parody songs,” he told her. “The music hung around long after she left. I've got a collection on my _awww_ , damn it.”

 

“What?”

 

Seifer sighed, raking his hand through his hair. “My personal computer back at the Garden. It's probably been scrubbed and reissued by now. Damn it! And all my stuff...”

 

“It's all in storage,” said Quistis, making Seifer look at her in surprise. “It's been classified as 'evidence'. The same with Fujin and Raijin's things. Every now and then various agencies want to examine your belongings for psychological profiling purposes, but as far as the Garden Board is concerned, no one except SeeDs on an investigation is allowed to touch your belongings since you're still a ward. But once you turn 20 or if you're apprehended, it's all fair game.”

 

“Good,” he said, his face half-serious and half-amused. “Because that sketch you gave me way back at the beginning...”

 

Sketch? Quistis had to think back hard before she remembered drawing a picture of herself in lingerie specifically to fire Seifer's imagination. It had been on the back of a quiz and had nearly gotten them in trouble once before.

 

“I told you to destroy that!” She exclaimed, stunned.

 

“And I was going to, but then we got _distracted_ and it kept slipping my mind.” Seifer smirked. “I like the new one you drew anyway.”

 

“Oh...” She blushed. “Well, I'm glad. Still, the other one...”

 

“Squall thought I did it,” said Seifer with a shrug. “So most other people will probably think the same. Hey...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Can I try it?”

 

“Try what?”

 

“Drawing you. Come on, what else are we gonna do in this downpour? Aside from the obvious...”

 

Quistis laughed softly, ignoring the little thrill that went through her as she happened to see just now much Seifer liked that particular idea; he was so happy to be naked in more ways than one. Keeping her gaze primly above Seifer's waistline, Quistis went for her bag. Since Dollet, she always carried some sort of art supply on her and now handed Seifer her sketchbook and a travel case of pencils.

 

“Now take off your clothes,” he told her, making her laugh aloud. “What? How am I supposed to draw you accurately?”

 

“You just want to see me naked.”

 

“Of course. But seriously, don't you want me to be accurate?” Seifer asked, grinning broadly.

 

“I will take off some clothing,” Quistis said, smiling. “If I take off everything, you're not going to be able to concentrate.”

 

“I've seen you strip before,” he said dismissively. “I think I can keep my cool.”

 

“ _Let's test that theory,”_ thought Quistis, but as she reached up to undo the ties on her dress, there was a shuffling sound that made her and Seifer look at the door. A piece of paper had appeared and frowning, Quistis went over to retrieve it. It was a piece of nice weighty white cardstock with a typed message.

 

“ _No dirty mercs in Deling City. Enjoy your stay and then get out. Red Coffin, ICS Guild 412.”_

 

“I think this is for you,” said Quistis, walking over to Seifer and handing him the card. She saw his eyes flick over the line before his lips thinned, and without warning the card burst into flame. The fire-rings around his pupils made his eyes glow like the phosphorescent sea, something that seemed to happen whenever his emotions were high.

 

“I wasn't planning to stay anyway,” Seifer grumbled, his expression turning dark.

 

“Were you working this week?” Quistis asked, surprised. They'd spent most of the last four days together and Quistis couldn't imagine when he would have snuck out. Apparently he had, and the fact that he'd done so without alerting her or waking her up was actually impressive.

 

“I picked up an odd job,” he said, making Quistis's brows raise. “Just one. The tipster told me it'd been sitting for a year, so I didn't think anyone would care.”

 

“Well obviously the Red Coffin does,” sighed Quistis. “They have a monopoly on murder in Deling City. You must have picked off one of their targets.”

 

“Obviously not a high-priority one, though I get why murdering dirty cops in your own city is a no-no,” said Seifer, making Quistis shake her head.

 

“Don't tell me those sorts of details,” she scolded him lightly. “The less I know, the safer you are.”

 

“Safer?” Seifer looked at her strangely. “What are you talking about?”

 

“SeeD keeps dossiers on every guild, freelancer, and unbonded freelancer we know about,” said Quistis, making Seifer's brows rise. “And it's updated continuously. It lets us have a leg up on the competition, but in a pinch it can also be used to track people down. If the search team finds out you've been working as a dirty merc, they'll use your file to find you.”

 

Seifer looked at Quistis long enough to make her uncomfortable, his sea-green eyes glowing faintly with something that might have been suspicion. She didn't like it.

 

“If you got orders to hand me over, would you do it?” He asked her bluntly. It was so sudden that Quistis was surprised into answering honestly.

 

“It depends on the circumstances.”

 

Seifer's eyes widened, making the firelight rings flare. “What?”

 

“It's a question of safety,” said Quistis, hugging her elbows even as she tried to speak calmly and professionally.

 

“So you think I'm fuckin' _dangerous?!”_

 

“Not indiscriminately! But I think if you were cornered and you didn't think there was any other way out—”

 

“Anyone who comes after me takes their lives in their fucking hands,” Seifer said wrathfully. “ _Including_ the search team full of former classmates. I am _not_ going to be arrested and tried and executed for shit I don't even remember doing half the time! You were _there!_ You saw how I was and you'd still—”

 

“That is _not_ what I meant,” said Quistis, something like a whipcrack in her voice; for a second it was like they were both back in the classroom. And just like back then, Seifer completely brushed off the verbal sting.

 

“So what the fuck are you gonna do with 5 million gil, Quistis? Start up your own school? Dick around with blue magic for the rest of your life? Or maybe go the sad sack route like Dincht and start looking around for your birth parents until all the blood money you get from fucking _me_ over is gone—”

 

He stopped when he saw Quistis starting to get angry. Since the two of them were alone she hadn't put on a jacket or gloves, making Seifer see how the muscles in her arms swelled and stood out as her fingertips dug into her elbows. He couldn't help but wonder how hard of a punch she could throw when she was really mad.

 

“How is it that people who've never been inside me know me better than you do?” Quistis asked in a low voice that seemed to cut across his throat, stealing his thoughtless words. “I do what is right, no matter what it costs me. The only time I ever make an exception to that rule is when _you're_ involved somehow, and you have the nerve to assume that I'd turn you over for _money?_ The truth is, Seifer, I would turn you over in a heartbeat if you were a danger to yourself or to others, but right now I'm more than happy that all you're alive and keeping your head down. I am _beyond happy_ that you're here, or rather... I was. Get out.”

 

He cocked his head, not sure what he'd just heard. “What?”

 

“Get out of my room. And go away.” Quistis closed her eyes, taking deep breaths as Seifer gaped at her in shock. “And once you can actually apologize to me and mean it, then I'll see you again.”

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Seifer shot back heatedly, making Quistis open her eyes and glare at him. Barreling through his stunned hurt, Seifer snapped, “Don't you act like a victim when it's my life that's on the line. I'm here because I trust you and now when you flat-out say to me that I can't, _you_ have the nerve to get all pissy? You can live with hurt feelings, Quistis, but _this_ government wants me dead and the Gardens probably want my head on a plate too. So your drive to do the right thing, no matter what it costs—it's real easy to say when you're not the one paying the price!”

 

“Yes, because it's so much _cheaper_ to live the rest of my life, knowing that I was the one who hurt you and got you killed,” Quistis snapped.

 

“You fucking shot me!” Seifer shouted, stabbing the center of the sunlike scar on his chest.

 

“I also begged the Sorceress to heal you!” Quistis shouted back, making Seifer stare. “Or is that something you conveniently don't remember?”

 

“Conve—con—” Seifer sputtered, breathless with a tide of rage that threatened to red out his vision. He looked away from Quistis before he could surge at her and Seifer started yanking his clothes on, heedless of the flames now pulling out of his skin to race up and down his arms. He did not see Quistis clap her hands over her mouth, her eyes huge with remorse. All Seifer could think of was the sickening wave of realization that had come over him in Ultimecia's castle, that the best, most high-flying time of his life was nothing more than a fucking psychotic break.

 

“ _I was wrong. Quistis thought I was broken all along, didn't she?”_

 

“I didn't mean that,” Quistis whispered, making him drag on his shirt with a furious snap of fabric. “I'm sorry. I don't know why—”

 

“Too little too late,” Seifer snapped, anger and something more painful boiling in his chest to make him feel lightheaded and a little nauseous as he dressed at top speed. He needed to get out and get away before his temper got really out of hand; not in violence, but setting something on fire was looking more like a possibility with every passing moment. As he pulled on his jacket and turned to leave, Seifer jumped slightly to find Quistis standing behind him, her eyes dark with miserable contrition. She had an umbrella in her hands and was holding it up, looking at him.

 

Without saying anything, Seifer zipped up his coat, pulled the hood over his head, and left.

 

It was still pouring buckets outside, and the sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the river created a thundering noise that seemed to make thinking hard. Perfect. Seifer jammed his hands in his pockets and struck off aimlessly, somewhere between a walk and a run. The air was just humid enough to feel good when he started having to breathe harder, and the area around Quistis's hotel was literally made for walking; nice paved avenues, willow trees on either sides, the canal off to one side. It would have been nice if Seifer could see more than fifty feet ahead of him, but the rain was coming down in sheets and waves and turning everything into grey blurs. As Seifer continued to walk, he realized that his coat was not waterproof and started looking for shelter with an irritated growl. Everything in front of him seemed closed or residential, so with an irritated huff Seifer turned around to head back to the area with cafes and bookstores he could hide out in.

 

“ _'Conveniently don't remember'... Yeah, it's real fucking convenient that I destroyed the only accomplishment of my life I ever wanted, I fired missiles into a school full of children, and I torched my future so thoroughly that I'm going to have to live the rest of my life on the run. That's_ exactly _the life I wanted for myself, little Miss Hero! Miss Priss. Why do I even fuck around with you? You're going to turn me in anyway...”_

 

As Seifer walked back, he automatically slowed down when he neared Quistis's hotel. Seifer was still angry, but now the stricken look in her eyes was coming to the forefront of his memory and Seifer exhaled hard. He wasn't stupid; he knew that if Quistis had really wanted to get him, she would have trussed him up like a spider's dinner in Dollet. Or had every active SeeD in the world waiting for him in the bar. But the thing was, he'd never seriously thought she'd do that to him because he'd always had the feeling that they were united in how they felt for each other—or more accurately, he felt so strongly in a certain way that imagining Quistis felt any different was impossible. Not when she looked at him with such soft, warm blue eyes, with such a hesitant and gentle smile on her lips. Not when she glared at him with a hurt fury that echoed his own. _How could you misjudge me so badly?_

 

“ _Ahh, fuck,”_ Seifer realized reluctantly. _“Maybe she's not the one who shouldn't be trusted... After all, she never lost her mind. She never betrayed what was important to her.”_

 

“ _But she said she'd turn you in...”_ chimed his inner jackass. 

 

“ _She said she'd turn me in if I was a danger to myself or others...”_ Seifer corrected. _“Which I don't plan to be, beyond the normal scope of my job anyway. Hell,_ I _wouldn't want me running around like a wild beast. I'd probably ask her to do it if I was in my right mind.”_

 

“ _You'd never turn her in, though,”_ said the jackass, who could never be simple or consistent. _“You'd go on the run with her if the spots were switched.”_

 

“ _Yeah, but that's_ me _. She's different. I can't hold it against her.”_

 

“ _Why not?”_

 

“ _Because she's not holding my real-life bad decisions against ME, is she? So why the fuck would I hold_ hypothetical decisions _against her?”_

 

Plus, it wasn't like unquestioning loyalty was always a good thing. Seifer thought of the wreck Fujin and Raijin's lives were now and sighed moodily. They had worked so hard and loved him so much, and for what?

 

Internal argument won/lost, Seifer sped up again, trying to outrun his guilt. But as he rounded the bend in the canal to go up along the main stretch of water, he saw a female figure with an umbrella standing by the water, looking into the canal with one foot on the railing. The hair was red instead of blonde, but it was a very particular shade of red that he thought he recognized even in the pouring rain... And Quistis had looked very upset indeed...

 

“ _Oh HELL no,”_ Seifer thought suspiciously, speeding up.

 

/\

 

Quistis couldn't move even after the door slammed shut. Her core was frozen solid, too cold to cry, but gradually she thawed and took a breath, life coming back into her body as tears pricked her eyes.

 

“ _That went so badly,”_ she thought, stunned with shock. _“He got so angry. I should have lied... I should have said I'd never—”_

 

No. No! Her inner core rebelled at the idea of giving up so easily for anyone, even someone she cared about. Plus, who would it help if she lied or otherwise made things easier for? No one. Not when it mattered.

 

“ _He can't say things are serious between us and then get_ angry _when I speak honestly about something unpleasant!”_

 

The spark of outrage flared and then guttered, battered by a sweeping wave of anxiety and fear.

 

“ _But it's true... He really can't trust me...”_

 

Quistis imagined Xu and Squall looking at her, telling her in no uncertain terms to give up Seifer's location or worse, plan a capture operation. She was a SeeD, was she not? The Prodigy? She was on sabbatical, sure, but she was still on the payroll and technically _had_ to obey orders if they came from the Commander. And while Squall wouldn't order Quistis to turn Seifer in, Xu might be able to talk him into giving up his location so the search team could track him down...

 

“ _He's even here in Deling City,”_ Quistis realized with a sinking feeling. _“Squall could capture Seifer himself... Or break half the city trying.”_

 

On the other hand, they'd been having drinks in the bar and being rather friendly, and with a deliberate huff Quistis pushed the anxieties away. There was just too much to think about and so much of it was ultimately pointless, especially the speculation over futures that hadn't happened yet. Quistis exhaled hard and rubbed her eyes, thinking of one of Xu's favorite sayings.

 

“ _Over-contemplation leads to under-happiness; in other words, thinking too hard makes things turn out bad. Fine. Stop thinking for a while. Now what to do... Well, if I were at home I'd have a drink and read a book, but I don't want to do that here... Maybe I should take a walk...”_

 

...Seifer's coat hadn't looked waterproof anyway. Quistis looked at the umbrella in her hands. It had hurt like being slapped when he hadn't taken it. She had just wanted him to be dry and he'd thrown her gesture in her face.

 

“ _Ooh, that emotional JERK! He always acts like this when he gets an answer he doesn't like! He was just like that at the Garden too when he was a student, absolutely terrible at taking criticism and claiming that he knew the perfect way to do everything!_ That's _why he failed four field exams!_

 

“ _...and then he passed his fifth, because he_ can _learn differently... He knows he's not perfect...”_

 

Quistis closed her eyes, pain locking her throat, as she thought of all the flashes of self-loathing and anguish she saw in him whenever Seifer thought about his part in the Second Sorceress War. How could she bring that up against him? He hadn't been right. He'd been like a puppet, except somehow worse because there'd been just enough autonomy that even she couldn't tell what was his idea versus Ultimecia's.

 

“ _I want to believe it was all her, that every bad thing was something she made him do, but I... I can't. He was just so personal sometimes.”_

 

But he hadn't wanted to be. The Seifer that Quistis remembered, the one she had fallen in love with... He'd drawn a line between being mean and _cruel._

 

“ _But did I? No... I was so upset... I just wanted to hurt him...”_

 

How petty. How disgusting.

 

“ _I should apologize... The sooner the better.”_

 

After settling her disguise, Quistis went outside. She had a vague idea of tracking Seifer's scent, but the rain was so thick and heavy that all she could smell was damp earth, worms, and the various unpleasant smells of the city washing into the Vinzer Canal. Quistis huffed in annoyance and upset and nearly picked a direction at random, but the part of her that was too goal-oriented to ever shut off rebelled at the idea. So she walked across the path to the canal and looked down into the water.

 

“ _I'm a terrible girlfriend,”_ she thought, watching the rain spatter into the grey-brown water. _“Not only do I hurt the man I care about just because he gets angry at me, but I can't even apologize to him soon enough to make a difference. He should date somebody else... Someone who knows what the hell she's doing. I'm sure I'm the worst woman he's ever been with in bed too... Effort is no substitution for skill, after all. What am I even doing... Who am I fooling? I'm... Me. An orphan. A killer. And when I die, the only people who will mourn me will be the ones who outlive me, which considering my track record will be... No one. I always live. I always survive. Alone.”_

 

“I wouldn't do it,” said a male voice, light but still edged with irritation. Quistis knew without looking that Seifer had come back for whatever reason. “It's full of shit and piss. And drowned corpses are the ugliest.”

 

“I wasn't going to jump,” she told him, annoyed. “I was just... Never mind. Why are you back?”

 

“I'm getting soaked.” He sounded much calmer, which was a relief. “Why are you out?”

 

“I...” Quistis's hand tightened around the railing. “Well, I was going to follow you. But that didn't work out, so I'm just... Looking out. And thinking.”

 

“About what?”

 

“That...” She sighed deeply. “Well, we just don't know each other well, do we?”

 

“ _I don't know myself as well as I thought I did, either.”_

 

“Well, no,” said Seifer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him lean against the railing, leaning slightly backwards to look at her. “But that's what this week is for, isn't it? Get to fill in some gaps? It's not like we've been having sex the entire time.”

 

That was true. The sex was indeed very nice and Quistis always liked it, but she also liked the really intimate things—seeing the look of concentration on Seifer's face when he was reading something he liked, getting to admire his infuriating eyeroll when it was directed at someone else, and witnessing moments of ungracefulness like Seifer being nearly unable to read “confusing” bus schedules. She even thought his occasional wild movements during sleep were endearing in their own way, though the first time Seifer had surged that violently, Quistis had immediately sat up and scanned the room for enemies. That of course had woken him up and he'd sat up too, and they'd spent the next twenty minutes reassuring themselves of the hotel's security before realizing what had happened. Seifer had been embarrassed then and that was one of the first times Quistis truly understood that Seifer's expression of a lot of emotions came across as plain anger. He'd calmed down after a hug and some kissing, which made Quistis wonder how this current predicament might be solved. Could it be that easy to be forgiven?

 

Quistis was doing that thing where she was falling into her own head, which in her annoyed Seifer just as much as it did with Squall. The difference was, however, he was fairly used to Quistis speaking her mind and so the fact that she wasn't made him extra irritated. He was tempted to shake her, but opted for a gentler approach since he actually (really) liked her and didn't want her to get too mad at him.

 

“You should come to Fisherman's Horizon for my birthday,” Seifer said, thinking a dramatic proposal shook things up as well as anything else.

 

Quistis turned sharply, looking at him in disbelief. “What?”

 

“It's a yes or no kind of question,” said Seifer, amused by her shock.

 

“ _...You still want to be around me?”_ Quistis almost asked aloud. At the last second she realized how pathetic she'd sound and kept her mouth shut. When she didn't say anything, however, Seifer frowned and then looked at her more closely.

 

“Wait...” He said slowly, his voice lightening with disbelief. “Did we think we were _over?_ Just because of that?”

 

“...Well, I had my concerns...” She looked away, her shoulders hunching up. “It was unfair of me to bring up that time... And you looked so hurt...”

 

“Nah,” he told her, now sounding very amused. “You were hurt by it too. Plus, you should hear some of the shit Fujin and Raijin give me. I think their favorite line is something like 'the last time we let you go off alone, you summoned the apocalypse'.”

 

She laughed in shocked disbelief. “They said that to you?”

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, smirking. “Hey, if they can't pull me up short, who can?”

 

“Hmm...” Quistis looked down into the water. “It still seems mean to me.”

 

“It's just a _little_ mean,” he said. “And not undeserved. So are you coming to FH or not?”

 

“For your birthday?” When he nodded, Quistis touched her hand to her face. “Umm... December, right?”

 

“December 22,” he confirmed. He grinned and nuzzled her neck, saying, “Take two weeks off and we can do New Year's too.”

 

“Hmm... That sounds nice,” said Quistis, smiling from the touch as much as the idea. She was so relieved he wasn't angry... Or at least visibly angry. She shoved the doubt away as she said, “I don't think I've ever celebrated New Year with anyone other than Xu.”

 

“Then it's time for a new tradition,” said Seifer, feeling good despite everything. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the forehead, making Quistis laugh softly.

 

“You're not still mad, are you?” She asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

 

“Not anymore,” he told her. “Don't be afraid of making me mad every now and then. I've got a short temper, so it's gonna happen. But I swear I'm never going to hit you and I'm never going to not-listen. I just might need to take a walk for a while.”

 

“That's fair,” said Quistis softly. There were times when she preferred to be by herself too. “But at the same time, take an umbrella.”

 

“ _Don't reject me when I'm caring about you,”_ was what she actually meant.

 

“Yeah...” Seifer shifted uncomfortably. He almost pulled his arm off her shoulders, but Quistis reached out and laid her hand on his, making him still. She could feel the presence of his body through his clothes, though he seemed somewhat chilled. “Look, I'm sorry that I accused you of wanting to turn me in for the money.”

 

“I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't trust me,” she said, her voice dipping with sadness.

 

“What's an arrest between lovers?” Seifer asked lightly, making Quistis shake her head with a soft chuckle. “I mean it. I know you wouldn't do it on the sly like that anyway. If you ever came after me, it'd be to my face. But we're not going to talk about that.”

 

“We're not?”

 

“No. For one thing, it puts you in a weird place with your job and that's no fun for either of us. And for another, it's not sporting.”

 

“Sporting!” Quistis couldn't help but laugh. “For who?”

 

“For the people coming after me, of course,” he said, smirking. Quistis almost asked if he'd still be so cavalier when literally faced with former classmates, but stopped herself at the last second. It wouldn't be sporting for him either if he felt like he had to hold back. And he'd good as said he wouldn't care, which Quistis did not want to have confirmed.

 

“Fine,” said Quistis, smiling. “Then we won't talk about the hunt... As long as you stop being so hard on yourself about back then.” As Seifer's lips thinned, Quistis said, “I know there are parts you don't remember and things you weren't in control of, but when you say things like you hated yourself back then or that you'd kill yourself... It makes me worry about when I don't see you.”

 

“It's just talk,” Seifer grumbled, his expression flattening. “You and Matron and Leonhart, every one of you thinks I'm gonna off myself, like I'm too wounded to live after what Bitch Witch did to me. When I talk about kicking my old self in the ass, it's because I hate what he did, not who he was.”

 

“What?”

 

“What?”

 

She gave him an annoyed look, which made Seifer sigh as his efforts to deflect were detected. But for whatever reason, Quistis just pursed her lips instead of pushing the subject. Seifer sighed in relief. Quistis looked back out onto the gray-brown canal and after a while, sighed heavily.

 

“You know... Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd been tapped instead of you.”

 

“We'd all be dead,” said Seifer flatly, making Quistis laugh.

 

“Zell said the same thing,” she sighed. “I just don't think anyone would have followed me like Fujin and Raijin.”

 

“I would have.”

 

“Don't be silly.”

 

“I would have,” insisted Seifer, giving her a little shake. “I would have wanted you safe.”

 

“Even if it meant turning on everyone and everything?” Quistis asked, her heart still swelling at the stupid romantic notion.

 

“Yes,” said Seifer, making Quistis shake her head. “I'm serious. I would have followed you no matter what, and for the same reason that Fujin and Raijin came after me. I would have stood by you because no one else was.”

 

“So it's a pity thing, then?” said Quistis, only realizing after the fact how insulting she sounded. But at the same time, who was Seifer kidding? Fujin and Raijin had left Balamb Garden for him because they loved him and they'd felt that way for years. At that point, she and Seifer had been 'seeing' each other for two weeks and only one day officially. He had to be... Well, not lying, exactly, but definitely exaggerating. It was easy for him to say he'd go so far when he wasn't being tested.

 

“ _I hope he doesn't resent me for not trying harder to bring him back,”_ thought Quistis, feeling even worse about everything. _“I wouldn't blame him if he did, but...”_

 

Seifer completely ignored the crack at Fujin and Raijin, mostly because it wasn't exactly a crack; they probably had pitied his mental state more than once. In any case that was then and this was now, and frankly all Seifer cared about was that Quistis was _still_ in some sort of head hole. So he pulled her around to look at her head-on. Unbeknownst to him, the firelights around his pupils were glowing again, adding even more intensity to the moment.

 

“Look, the last time I said this, we were about to die,” said Seifer, feeling his pulse ramp up and his chest tighten. Quistis blinked at him and then stared as he said, “So listen up, I... I...”

 

Quistis looked up at Seifer in blank shock. She was pretty sure she was feeling terror and not excitement. Right? Maybe both? Oh Great Hyne, was he about to say what she thought he was going to say?

 

“ _Oh for fuck's sake,”_ thought Seifer in total disgust as the cold and the chill finally caught up with him. He managed to turn away just before sneezing explosively and out of the corner of his eye, saw Quistis twisting away to avoid the impact. Neither of them said anything for a while and all the while, the rain sheeted down in a solid gray wall.

 

“...let's go inside,” said Quistis after a moment. “And warm up. Okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay,” said Seifer, somewhat red in the face.

 

They went back to her room. Seifer knew he could dry his clothing instantly with his fire lore, but standing in steaming garments didn't sound appealing, so he put his clothes in the sink and took a hot shower instead. And tried to think of what the hell he wanted to say.

 

“ _Listen up. I love you. I mean, sure, the last time I said it, it was because I thought we were going to die, but that doesn't mean I didn't mean it. Last time it was just two weeks before I made up my mind, and now I've thought about you longer and wanted you more than anybody I've ever known before...”_

 

“ _But is that_ really _love?”_ asked his nasty inner jackass. _“Or just hanging onto something because you don't have anything better?”_

 

Seifer tried to think of a woman who might theoretically be 'better' and came up with nothing. Not physically, not mentally, not emotionally. He wasn't looking for a perfect angel anyway, not some sweet and soft little thing that couldn't handle stress or a deadly weapon or the darker side of a moral dilemma. Quistis had seen the worst of his sins firsthand and still looked into his eyes with trust and affection, and that was more than enough for Seifer to love her right now.

 

And besides that, there were the other things. How she was so pragmatic and sensible, yet could be sandbagged into adorable stammering with emotion. How she could fight against him with everything she had and still be vulnerable in front of him later. And Quistis didn't back down when Seifer lost his temper either. Most girls immediately tried to soothe him or at the very least cringed if he lost control of his volume, but Quistis would just glare and give as good as she got, which made Seifer feel like a man instead of a berserk and untrustworthy beast.

 

Seifer toweled off, wrung out his clothes, then baked the water out of them with fire lore. Thus re-dressed, he came outside and found Quistis sitting on the bed, wig gone and hair down. It was just dark enough that he wondered if he'd see her eyes mirror-shining if she turned around. He remembered them glowing for him back in Dollet as they'd made love, flushed with the utter joy of being together again and smiled.

 

“You know...” said Quistis quietly. “When we were first separated after the failed assassination, I cried all night.”

 

“You did?” Seifer was surprised. He couldn't imagine Quistis crying. Silently weeping, maybe, but not outright crying.

 

“Mm-hmm. I thought you were gone, if not dead. And then the next day I heard you'd been executed, so I cried even more. I've never cried after any of my other missions. Failed or otherwise.”

 

“Never? Even after your field exam?”

 

Quistis shook her head. “Not even after that. I figured, I was alive, so what did I have to cry about? But when I lost you, I... I broke down. A lot.”

 

Seifer tilted his head a little, something seeming to click in his brain. “Is that why you told me you loved me when we met again?”

 

Quistis nodded numbly. “You said it when you threw me, and I thought... Well, I'm not going to have another chance.” When Seifer laughed softly, she gave him a half-glare over her shoulder and said, “It made sense at the time.”

 

“No, that's why I said it too, when I threw you,” he said, making her look at him in surprise. “I figured we were going to die. And that was the most important thing I could think of to get off my chest, so...”

 

They stared at each other for a bit and then started laughing a little awkwardly.

 

“You regret it?” Seifer asked her, coming around to sit by her on the bed.

 

“I don't,” said Quistis, shaking her head. “But... And please don't take this the wrong way, because I do feel for you very deeply. More intensely than anyone I've ever known. But I'm just not sure what I feel for you right now is love.”

 

_...What?_

 

“We've always been running around with some sort of pressure on our heads,” said Quistis, clasping her hands together. “Even now. And I feel like it compresses our emotions or almost forces us to say things that we _have_ to live up to. We just admitted that we both said it because... Well, circumstances.”

 

Seifer exhaled slowly. He was surprised he wasn't more surprised even as shock seemed to numb his heart. Hadn't he been thinking something similar? So why did he feel...hurt? Quistis kept talking, her speech starting to speed up the longer he stayed quiet.

 

“I'm afraid that if I say _those_ words, I'll pretend like I was in love without being really sure. And that's not right. It wouldn't be fair to you.”

 

“So what would make it 'love' in your mind, then?” Seifer asked, pulling himself out of useless self-pity. It was best to keep moving forward; that was where the solutions were.

 

“Time,” she said immediately. “And proximity.”

 

“So we haven't spent enough time together and we're too far away from each other,” said Seifer, making Quistis nod. “I guess that's fair... We're both in weird places. But you know, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for almost a year now, so that's plenty of time for me. And you could have named any place in the world and I would have figured out a way to be there, so distance doesn't matter either.”

 

Quistis hugged herself, looking down at the ground. “Please...” Her voice was soft and anguished. “Don't... I know you're just telling me your side, but it feels like you're trying to compel me into feeling the same. And I just—”

 

“Look, I'll stop talking about it,” said Seifer as he saw Quistis start to tremble. “And if you don't feel the same or you don't know how you're feeling right now, that's fine. Part of why I _almost_ said what I did was because I'm pretty sure of it. You know I've gotten around a bit. Maybe a lot. But what _we_ do is so different and it feels so much more real. So...” He shrugged. “That's why I wanted to say it.”

 

“I don't have that experience,” Quistis whispered. “So how am I supposed to know?”

 

“Don't beat yourself up about it,” said Seifer even as he looked away, clasping his hands together and trying not to grip. The least he could do was not _look_ upset right now. “There's no pressure. And the last thing I want to do to you or anyone is force you into feeling a certain way. Let's... Let's just go to dinner, alright? We don't want to be late.”

 

“Seifer...”

 

“What?”

 

“I don't know if this is love,” she said softly, and he felt her fingertips on top of his knee. “But if I love anybody, it's you. Is that good enough for now?”

 

He tried not to be bitter. Time... Proximity... It wasn't like they could help either of those things. Not without being in danger. Still, knowing that she was so unwilling to say back the words he'd been holding onto felt like a slow punch in the chest. It was just a word!

 

“ _It_ IS _just a word, you fucking dumbass,”_ his sensible self snapped acerbically. Occasionally it sounded a lot like the jackass depending on how he was feeling. _“Look at her actions. Look at the way she looks at you. The way she opens herself up for you. She doesn't_ say _it, she shows it. Shut up about_ one _word.”_

 

Seifer looked at Quistis sidelong and saw her gaze slide away from his; she couldn't meet his eyes. Seifer sighed and draped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a kiss on the head. It had to be love if he wanted to pull her out of a hole before she walked into it rather than roll his eyes and move on like he would for everyone else.

 

“It's fine,” Seifer said, half to her and half to himself. “We'll just do this one day at a time like always. Don't feel pressured, okay?”

 

“Okay,” she said very softly, still upset. But at least she wasn't shaking anymore.

 

He kissed her on the head again. “Can I say it to you from time to time? I'll never expect to hear it back. Just think of it as a kiss, if that helps.”

 

“I do like kisses,” she whispered, making Seifer chuckle a little. He nudged her head a little and bent down to put his lips by her ear, remembering the first time he'd ever kissed her in the elevator.

 

“I love you,” he breathed, so softly he couldn't hear his own words, and then kissed her behind the ear. Quistis's shiver could have been in reaction to either thing, and the same went for the very tight hug she gave him immediately afterward. Seifer hugged her back, feeling her pulse hammering in her veins. She was rigid. So nervous. Brimming with emotion and held back by fear and logic.

 

“ _On the other hand... When she says it, I'll never doubt her. Waiting isn't going to be so bad. And it just means another thing to look forward to, right? Heh... Maybe it'll be a birthday present.”_

 

It was a silly thought and a little ridiculous how the idea lifted his spirits, but when Quistis let go, Seifer was smiling. She looked stunned, which was easily one of her most adorable expressions, and Seifer kissed her lightly on the lips with a chuckle, which made her smile shyly back.

 

“Dinner?” He asked.

 

She nodded, her blue eyes becoming warm. “Dinner.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Fighting and throwing objects has its place, but I think these two could work out well in the long run, which means they have to be able to solve their problems in a healthy and sustainable way.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	24. Chapter 24

Being products of their respective Gardens, Selphie and Irvine were used to sharing space with a roommate, so the decision to move in with each other was not as terrible as it might have been. It was almost automatic to leave the common areas clean (though no dorm parents would be swooping by for inspections), keep the sink and bathroom spotless, and put everything away in the kitchen as soon as they were done using it. The devil was in the details, though: Irvine kept tripping over the stepstool that Selphie used to get things out of the highest kitchen cabinets, Selphie was mystified by Irvine's three different kinds of shampoos, and while they both liked to play loud music, their taste in music differed. Selphie liked what Irvine considered to be emptiest, most vapid of pop music while Irvine liked what Selphie thought of as boring old people tunes, complete with buying a record player and slowly filling up the house with vinyls and slate records. Fortunately, throwback-inspired music was the perfect convergence of their tastes, which was why they got ready for dinner with Quistis and her boyfriend singing the same song and dancing around as Irvine's record player put its sound through Selphie's state-of-the-art stereo system.

 

“Hmm...” Selphie glanced up at the clock as she put the finishing touches on the dinner table. “It's not like Quisty to be late.”

 

“I bet I know why,” said Irvine with a lewd chuckle, making Selphie roll her eyes good-naturedly.

 

“Well that is a perfectly acceptable reason to be late,” said Selphie, speaking as though she were the arbiter of such things. “She'd better be walking funny when she comes through the door though, or I'm just gonna look at them and shake my head. Like this.”

 

“Perfectly devastating, baby,” said Irvine with a grin as Selphie put her hands on her hips and shook her head in a very good impression of a disapproving schoolmarm. It was ruined by the sparkle in her eyes.

 

“I'll really do it, Irvine!”

 

“Do it!” He encouraged with a grin, and they both turned as they heard a knock on the apartment door. At once Selphie whipped around, her eyes gleaming.

 

“Eeehehehe, showtime,” she giggled, rubbing her hands. Irvine laughed aloud but cringed a little inside. As far as he knew, Selphie had no idea that Zero was actually Seifer. God help them all if she found out and reacted badly, which might range from crying to shouting to actively blowing up the apartment. You never knew with Selphie, which was part of the fun and part of the reason there was a fire extinguisher in every room. Just to be safe, Irvine moved the one in the dining room close to his chair. Tonight they were having a Trabian-style hotpot dinner and there were open flames at the table, so his precaution wasn't entirely hyperbolic.

 

“Booyaka!” Selphie flung open the door, making Quistis jump and then laugh and Seifer take a step back in shock. Apparently once broken, the illusion covering his face stayed broken, and Irvine got to see the seriously weird picture of Seifer laughing gently and shaking his head at Selphie. All of Irvine's memories of of Seifer-the-grownup were bad, but on the other hand, Irvine had plenty of memories of Seifer-the-child, and those were nice, if occasionally tinged with jealousy. Seifer's utter willingness to indulge in dangerous antics appealed to Selphie on a level that Irvine had never been able to match, but fortunately Irvine had had his own connection with Seifer.

 

“ _Put it down!” Quistis shrilled as Irvine and Seifer carried a dead plate jelly larger than a dinner tray up the stairs back to the orphanage._

 

“ _Nope,” said Irvine, his eyes gleaming._

 

“ _We have a bet,” said Seifer._

 

“ _It's_ dripping,” _Quistis exclaimed in horror._

 

“ _And I think it's gonna dry up,” said Irvine._

 

“ _Nuh-uh, it's gonna melt,” said Seifer._

 

“ _It's SUPER gross! Put it down!”_

 

“ _No,” said Irvine, and then “Oops” as the jellyfish slid out of his hands. Seifer cried out in alarm but it was too late . The three of them watched the massive plate jelly slorp out of Seifer's grip and fall to the beach thirty feet below, landing with a splat that displaced sand in a shallow crater two feet wide. Wordlessly the boys looked at each other, nodded, and went back for it while Quistis ran to tell Matron how gross they were being._

 

Irvine wondered if Quistis remembered that incident as she came into the apartment holding hands with Seifer, softly glowing with the look of a woman in love. Seifer was glowing too and Irvine smiled when Seifer handed Selphie a bottle of wine. It was good to see his childhood friend acting like a real person again, though Irvine would never admit as much aloud. Sentiments about Seifer in their private friend group were mixed and depending on the individuals seemed to vary from day to day, which was why Irvine was cautious and always assumed the worst.

 

“Sorry we're late,” said Quistis, brushing her red hair over her ear. “We went down the west side instead of the east side by accident.”

 

“Ooh, yeah,” said Selphie, nodding as she closed the door. “It gets tricky. And hooray, wine!” She studied the label, no doubt familiar with the vintage; she was very serious about all aspects of wedding planning and probably knew the price, vineyard, and age down to the month of this particular bottle. “Nice. This'll be great! I'll crack it open right now.”

 

“We also brought a cake,” said Quistis, holding up a distinctive pink box. Selphie squealed with joy and took it as Quistis said, “Two little ones, actually. We couldn't decide.”

 

“Let me guess...” Selphie put her face over the box and inhaled deeply. “...Cocoa Cooler and Mango Mousse from Belissima.”

 

“How the hell—” Seifer exclaimed, impressed.

 

“She's a professional party planner,” said Irvine, grinning. “I think she'd have to turn in her license if she couldn't do _that_ much.”

 

“Plus only Belissima has _this_ shade of pink for their boxes,” said Selphie airily. “Didn't know you liked dark chocolate, Zero. I approve of your tastes.”

 

“Eh, I always have,” he said, smiling crookedly. “Even when I was a kid. You know, I had this little friend up until I was about five or six and we'd steal cacao nibs from this special jar... Actually, the first time I had milk chocolate, I spat it out because it didn't taste right.”

 

“Yeah...” said Selphie, her expression becoming sad. “Milk chocolate is mostly fake anyway. So!” She brightened dramatically, smiling. “Ready for dinner? It's all set up!”

 

“It looks wonderful,” said Quistis as they all went to the table. There was a burner with a large, shallow pan of the Tilmitt family's special hotpot broth in the middle of the table and plates of thinly sliced vegetables and meats surrounded it, practically popping with color.

 

“Yeah, my family would always do this whenever I came home from school,” said Selphie, dimpling. “So the idea is that you wait until the soup is boiling—like now—and then you throw in all the vegetables and then you pull them out when it starts to boil again. And then you cook the meats. Yay! I'm so glad you're over to eat this. I tried to do this with Rinoa and Squall, but he eats like... Five things.”

 

Seifer suppressed a snort. Selphie had hit on one of the things that had _always_ ticked him off about Squall Leonhart.

 

“Well, you don't have to worry about me,” said Seifer, looking at the soup in interest. “I'll try near anything... Though I have to ask, is that just chilies all the way down?”

 

“Nah, that's just the surface,” said Irvine, scooping the solid layer of cut-up chilies off the top of the boiling soup and chucking them into a bowl. “Hope you like spicy.”

 

“How spicy are we talking?”

 

“It's a special kind of spicy,” said Selphie, eyes gleaming. “It makes your mouth go numb but you can still taste stuff. It's pretty cool.”

 

“It sounds terrifying,” said Seifer, pulling out a chair. “Let me at it.”

 

All in all it was a nice dinner, though most of the conversation was about the food. Irvine snickered when it turned out that Seifer did not have a high spice tolerance at all, and as the scarred blond turned almost as red as the broth, he looked at Quistis serenely eating her vegetables and meats with additional chili oil on top and asked in a half-choked voice, “How?”

 

“I usually celebrate New Year with Xu and her family,” said Quistis, smiling. Tapping her plate with her fork, she said, “This is on the mild end of what they eat.”

 

“Crazy people,” Seifer grumbled. Fortunately, the broth got less spicy as the meal went on and Irvine and Selphie kept adding water to the pot, and Seifer was eventually able to eat and enjoy a proper meal. Afterwards they had cake and tea, and Irvine was both surprised and not surprised when Selphie brought out her stash of honey-glazed cacao nibs to share with Seifer over chocolate cake.

 

“So where do you see yourself in five years?” Selphie asked, making Quistis choke on her tea a little.

 

“Filthy rich,” said Seifer without missing a beat. “Traveling the world on my own boat and taking whatever jobs I want.”

 

“You're in the bloody business for life, then?”

 

“Well, it's what I'm good at,” he said, popping a nib into his mouth. “And I like it. It's not all murder, you know. I like the tracking, the research, the planning... It's fun.”

 

“And the murder?”

 

“At the risk of sounding like a complete psycho, that's fun in its own way,” said Seifer with a grin. “The nice thing about being my own boss is that I get to go into every job with the assurance that every fucker dies for a good reason.”

 

“That's always the hope,” sighed Selphie. “It's a bit of why I retired.”

 

“Just a bit?”

 

Selphie nodded, her eyes darkening. “A little bit. Most of it was... Well... I didn't want to die as a SeeD.”

 

“Why not?” asked Seifer, who had never imagined dying as anything else.

 

“Because it doesn't mean anything in the end,” said Selphie, picking up one of her cacao nibs. “When the missiles hit Trabia Garden, I lost a lot of friends... Teachers... Mentors. And that was it for them, just pft. Boom. Black. They never got a chance to be anything more than their credentials.”

 

Seifer looked away, gripping his hands together. Quistis and Irvine stopped what they were doing and watched the play between Selphie and Seifer very closely.

 

“I keep thinking about the kids, especially...” said Selphie, her eyes downcast. “The wards. The orphans, you know? The youngest one was six... Gosh, they must have been so scared. And they just died like that, not knowing anything or even having a chance to fight back... They were just kids... They didn't have anywhere else to go...”

 

Selphie sniffled, making Irvine's face crumple with heartache. He half-rose, but Quistis put her hand on his arm, her eyes dark but firm as she looked at Seifer. Seifer was looking down at the ground, still and heavy with consequences. He looked upset, of course, but Quistis got the sense that this was probably the first time he'd also really thought about what had happened. She couldn't blame him for that. There were plenty of things from her own past that she didn't want to dwell on for long. But this was just a little different.

 

“...Quistis told me some of how he was...” Seifer said slowly, looking away. “The Mad Knight. How... How he was compelled to do things, even when he knew were wrong. He couldn't stop himself. He couldn't even want to. His need to please the Sorceress was overwhelming and unquestioning. But he'd have flashes of lucidity. I... I think he aimed for Trabia Garden so he wouldn't have to shoot at Balamb Garden immediately. He was trying to delay destroying his home. If Trabia got hit first, they might have sent out an alarm. Balamb would have had time to evacuate. It wasn't... It _wouldn't_ have been anything personal.”

 

“So...” Selphie looked down at the ground, her shoulders hunching. “So... We didn't get bombed... Because of me?”

 

Quistis and Irvine looked at Selphie in shock.

 

“Because... Because I was from Trabia Garden? And opposed the Sorceress?” Selphie whispered, her eyes welling up with tears. Quistis covered her mouth in horror as Irvine went to Selphie immediately and hugged her hard. Eight months she'd been holding that back...

 

“No,” said Seifer, shaking his head and his voice filled with more empathy than any of them had ever heard. “Trabia Garden was bombed because it was a Garden. Not because of you. I didn't—I mean, I don't think that the Sorceress was thinking that way. She just wanted all SeeDs gone forever. No matter what.”

 

“So it was her idea to bomb the Gardens?” Selphie asked, looking at Seifer.

 

“The Sorceress gave the orders. The Mad Knight just carried them out.” Seifer raked his hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “Like I said, he just wanted to make her happy.”

 

“What happened if he didn't?”

 

“I...” Seifer shook his head. He finally remembered he was playing a role, a man named Zero. “I don't know. I wasn't there.”

 

“Do you think he's sorry?”

 

“...Sorry...” Seifer looked down at the ground. It literally hurt to breathe with the weight of everything pushing down on him. “Sorry... Is meaningless.”

 

“What?” Selphie half-exclaimed, her voice low with shock. Irvine glared at Seifer, his arms tightening protectively around Selphie.

 

“Everyone's still dead,” said Seifer, echoing the words Squall had said to him in the beginning of the week. “And... There's no way to pay. Nothing to do to make up for it. So... 'Sorry' is meaningless.”

 

“I guess that's sort of true,” said Selphie slowly, though Irvine was less quick to calm. “But I want to know if he regrets what he did. Or if he even remembers what happened. I know he wasn't... All there.”

 

Seifer clenched his jaw against the emotion trying to push itself from his eyes and throat; it was difficult to hold onto a persona and keep back all the things he wanted/needed to say. Seifer spoke slowly, but the words still seemed to rattle out of his control as he said, “Oh, I'm sure he feels regret. He was a ward too. I'm sure he remembers being that age, and being that age and nothing beyond it... Knowing he's done that to other people... I think he'd be sick. It'd give him nightmares...”

 

“ _...And an incentive to throw myself into battle and other dangerous situations, because at least I would have died doing something right... I know I can't fix anything if I'm dead, but I can't fix anything while I'm alive either...”_

 

Selphie's eyes dropped to the floor, the cacao nib still in her fingers. She rolled it quietly between her fingertips before reaching out and putting it on the coffee table closest to Seifer's knee. He didn't seem to notice.

 

“You know what really sucks?” Selphie said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Seifer Almasy and I were really good friends when we were little kids. I miss the boy I used to set fires and play pirates with... I miss him so much. I wish he'd come home.”

 

“ _I miss him too,”_ thought Seifer, blinking back the tears that threatened to unmake him. This was like being flayed alive, but he forced himself to sit and take it. He was going to lie in the fucking bed he'd made. _“I miss the little girl I was friends with too.”_

 

“You want some tea?” Seifer asked Selphie, unable to meet her eyes. “Maybe with something extra? You look a little rough.”

 

“Uh... Yeah...” Selphie closed her eyes, tears dripping out from her lashes. Irvine just hugged her harder, pressing his lips against her temple. “Thanks...”

 

“I'll be back,” said Seifer, picking up her cup and leaving the living room. Quistis hovered indecisively, looking from Seifer's tight, miserable back to the tears spilling silently down Selphie's face.

 

“I got her,” Irvine mouthed to Quistis as Selphie turned her head into his chest, her shoulders shaking. “Go on.”

 

Quistis bowed her head gratefully and went to the kitchen, where Seifer was silently filling the teakettle with water. When it was full, neither of them said anything as he held the base of the kettle in both hands instead of putting it on the stove. Presently it began to steam.

 

“...Zero?” Quistis asked softly, making Seifer blink and lift his head slightly. “Talk to me?”

 

“Not here,” he told her just as quietly. “Um. Can we sleep at your place tonight?”

 

“Of course. But why?”

 

Seifer couldn't talk about it. Why he suddenly felt like he didn't deserve the posh hotel room in the Franzia, nor the money he'd earned by his wit and skill. Nor his life.

 

“ _And definitely not you,”_ thought Seifer as Quistis leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. The softness of her touch was just enough to crack the brittle shell he was trying to construct around emotions, making Seifer grit his teeth and bow his head as the urge to cry swelled up inside him. Back before everything he could have laughed stuff off, but something about his ordeal with Ultimecia had rubbed his emotional defenses raw and things didn't slide off anymore. They stuck like nails or knives in his skin, clawing him back to the site of his offenses and making him stare at what he'd done. The worst thing was that he was just intact enough to care.

 

“Do you want to go back now?” Quistis asked quietly as Seifer shuddered, trying to collect himself. She flashed back to when Squall had broken down about Rinoa, except back then the brunet had actually cried for two or three seconds. Seifer looked and felt like he'd sooner die than break in that way, which made her worried.

 

“No,” he said, his voice thick as tears squeezed past his lashes. “There's no good excuse to leave. Just give me a minute.”

 

“Hey, guys?” Irvine's voice made them jump and by the time he came into the kitchen, Seifer had managed to swipe the tears from his face and look as normal as possible. “Uh... Sorry. Selphie has a headache...”

 

“Oh... Alright,” said Quistis, surprised at how well that had worked out. “Umm... Shall we leave? I mean, we can help with cleanup—”

 

“Nah, don't worry about it,” said Irvine, flapping his hand at her. “Just, uh... Well, we'll see you again before you go off, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“Okay then, cool.” He came into the kitchen and gave Quistis a hug. Then with a quick sidelong glance at where Selphie was in the living room, Irvine gave Seifer a quick, hard hug too, making the older man freeze. The longhaired sniper gave him a thump on the back and then left, saying over his shoulder, “Goodnight, you two.”

 

“Goodnight,” said Quistis, looking at Irvine in surprise. Seifer just stared after the man, and the kettle in his hands started to whistle. Quistis turned at the noise, but Seifer didn't appear to notice. With a little sigh Quistis took the handle of the kettle and pulled the object out of Seifer's shellshocked hands. When she looked at his palms they were not red in the least, but they almost burned when she took his hands in hers.

 

“It wasn't—” she started to say, but Seifer just shook his head, closing his eyes. Quistis bit her lip. After telling Irvine thanks for dinner (Selphie had disappeared), the two left the apartment and took the train back to Quistis's hotel. Seifer was silent and uncommunicative, so Quistis held his hand and rubbed her thumbs over his palm, feeling helpless and at the same time like this was the best thing to do. When they got back to her room, Seifer went to the bed and sat down, staring at the ground. Quistis took off her shoes before going to sit next to him.

 

“Tell me what's wrong,” she said softly, remembering when he'd asked her the same.

 

“I think I thought that everything would be fine,” he said, barely above a whisper. “That on some level, it was okay. You were fine. Balamb Garden was fine. And... I just ignored the other stuff. I didn't _really_ recognize it had happened.”

 

Seifer put his head in his hands. “You know, it used to piss me off so much that Matron and Cid and Fujin and Raijin would tell me that stuff wasn't my fault. Because I remember doing things. I... I remember giving the order. I remember why I said Trabia first. But now I wish I could believe them. I never... I just wanted to make her happy. I just wanted to keep her safe. I thought she needed me...”

 

A hard shudder seemed to ripple down his back and Quistis heard a low, choked-off sob. Not knowing what to do, Quistis put her head against Seifer's shoulder and rubbed his back, which made him gasp and then break down in earnest, putting his head on his knees so she couldn't see him cry. Quistis kept rubbing his back, wishing she could do more.

 

Afterwards they lay under the covers, Seifer resting his head on Quistis's shoulder as she ran her fingertips through his hair. It was always softer than she thought it would be. Seifer held her close, not saying anything. He seemed empty of all energy. And he fell asleep like that, holding onto her and staying silent. Quistis fell asleep too, one hand on his head and the other around his back like she could hold him together.

 

/\/\/\

 

“Irvy?”

 

“Yes, Selphie?”

 

“Was he crying?”

 

“Was who crying, baby?”

 

“Seifer.”

 

Irvine's eyes flew open and he sat up in bed, looking sharply down at the petite woman in his arms. Selphie looked up at him very evenly, her green eyes dark with emotion.

 

“When you checked on them in the kitchen,” said Selphie, still lying on her side in the bed. “Was he crying?”

 

“I... Maybe,” said Irvine, stunned. “I saw him wiping his eyes. How the hell did you—”

 

“It wasn't that hard to figure out,” said Selphie with a little sigh. “I'm perky, not dumb. Everyone was just a little too familiar with him in the bar. Rinoa and Squall especially. And the look on Quisty's face when he started talking about how much he hated himself back then... Like I said, it wasn't hard to figure out.”

 

“So you must have seen his face change, then.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And you didn't say anything? I mean, that was pretty freaky for me...”

 

“Irvine, you and I have seen things we still don't have names for eight months later, and you think one face changing into another is going to scare me? Besides, you didn't say anything either.”

 

“ 'Cuz it ain't my secret to tell,” said Irvine, and shifted uncomfortably. Since he always slept on his side, he typically braided his hair into a loose plait so it would stay out of his way and not get messed up in the night. As the chestnut-colored rope slithered over his shoulder, he admitted, “And I didn't know how you'd react. You just keep everything hid, you know? Me, I know better'n most how you say you're fine when you're freaking out inside.”

 

Selphie didn't say anything to that, mostly because it was true. The first time she had gone walking around Trabia Garden in the aftermath of the bombing, Irvine had stayed at her side as a silent shadow. She'd known he was there for support, but his mere presence made her stiffen up—crying didn't solve anything, after all—to the point where Selphie hadn't been able to think of anything other than needing to get away so she could break down. In the end, Irvine had sat on one side of a broken wall so Selphie could cry on the other side of it where no one could see her. That was the first time Selphie had thought maybe there was something there because nobody had ever just let her cry before. They seemed to find her tears in particular to be extremely disturbing, a point that still informed how Selphie dealt with stress in general.

 

But she wasn't 17 anymore, and this wasn't the same as being surrounded by dead bodies and the ruins of a life she loved. This was, in fact, facing someone she cared about and moving toward the future.

 

“I don't blame anybody,” said Selphie, her voice dropping half an octave into the tone she only used when she was speaking about something serious. “Not you, not him... Well, I blame Ultimecia. But it's like you've been saying, it was just a matter of time and place. And I'm glad he's doing okay, really. It was good seeing him be a normal person and Quisty's so happy too... But all through dinner I kept thinking he'd get along with Dina or Oggie or Maxine, and they're just... They'll never get to meet. Because of what happened.”

 

“It's all messed up,” Irvine said, making Selphie nod. “What he said about aiming for Trabia first, though...”

 

Selphie sighed. “Yeah. I know. But we can't say we wouldn't have done the same thing. We were there, but not _there-_ there, you know? Mama and Papa said that you can't judge anyone for making decisions that you've never had to make.”

 

“So why the grilling and the guilt-tripping, then?” Irvine asked, unable to shake the memories of Seifer's near-breakdown and self-loathing.

 

Selphie shrugged. “I don't know. I guess... I wanted to find out how much he remembered. How much he was in control. Not very much, apparently. Which is what I figured in the first place, but still.”

 

“Did you really think Ultimecia bombed Trabia 'cuz of you?” Irvine asked quietly. He hated the idea of her keeping something so upsetting to herself for so long.

 

“Not really, but sometimes it pops up, you know?” said Selphie, her eyes darkening. She curled into the sheets a little and said, “Sometimes it's easier if you can pretend you're responsible, because even though it's your fault, at least you had control... But sometimes you just don't. And admitting you never did can be just as hard as anything else. It's just luck, is all.”

 

Irvine nodded in perfect agreement. Their 'whatever will be, will be' outlooks was part of the reason they got along so well.

 

“But you should have told me,” said Selphie, looking up at Irvine. “What if I didn't know? And I got surprised unexpectedly?”

 

“Not my secret to—”

 

“That's fine for stolen cookies and borrowed pants, but from a tactical standpoint it could have been really bad,” said Selphie, making Irvine squirm a bit. You could take the girl out of SeeD, but the other way around was apparently much more difficult. “You don't protect me by sticking me in a dark closet, Irvine.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Apology accepted, just don't do it again.” Selphie's eyes seemed to gleam as she added, “Or I'll braid your hair to the headboard.”

 

“Don't you dare,” said Irvine, alarmed, and Selphie laughed. The really scary thing was that she could do it; as a child of two surgeons, she had an alarming knowledge of how to tie very small, very tight knots. But Irvine knew in his heart that Selphie would never do any such thing, and when she pecked him fondly on the lips, he knew all was forgiven. That was just how Selphie was, and not for the first time was Irvine thankful for his smiling and open-hearted girl. He only hoped that everybody else would know how lucky they all were to know her... And how very lucky he was that for the moment, she was his.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Most Garden students tend to have a limited palate because the Garden itself offers a limited menu, which is why foods like hot dogs are sought after to the point of violence.

 

Also if you've read my rambling megafic PYLO (hosted on ff.net) then the jellyfish thing might seem familiar. That was a weird winter.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	25. Chapter 25

Quistis woke up the next morning alone, which was just unusual enough for the past five days that she came awake immediately and looked around. The bed was cool but still thick with Seifer's leatheramber scent, and when she looked over her shoulder, Quistis exhaled in relief to see Seifer sitting in a chair at the side of the bed, one foot on the mattress to prop up the art pad he was holding. He smiled at her, but it was a small and somewhat joyless expression.

 

“Morning,” he said quietly.

 

“Morning,” she replied. Looking at the art pad, she asked, “Are you drawing me?”

 

“Uh... No.” Seifer looked down at the art pad for a second before turning it around. Whatever sleepiness still edged Quistis's consciousness vanished at once as she saw the recognizable picture of Ultimecia; the marks on the face was there, the colors were right, and there was an aura of cruel acquisition in the drawing's pose that made Quistis bite her lip.

 

“I told you sometimes I have nightmares, right?” Seifer said softly as Quistis reached out and took the art pad. “At the time, this seemed like a better option than trying to go back to bed.”

 

“What are your nightmares about?” Quistis asked. The thickness of the unused paper was less than it should have been and Quistis started flipping the pages back. Seifer had been drawing for a while. The preceding picture was of Ultimecia too, but the pose was weirdly suggestive. Quistis looked at Seifer strangely, but his eyes weren't on her. In the darkness of indeterminate morning, the fire-rings in his eyes glowed like candle flames and made his sea-green eyes seem to ripple with uncertain light.

 

“Her coming after me. Sometimes being the Mad Knight again,” he said, looking off somewhere into the distance. “Last night I dreamed I was killing all the little children in Trabia Garden and laughing. How sick is that?”

 

“It's just your brain spitting up things you've heard in the day,” said Quistis as she kept looking through his drawings. Critically she noted that he didn't have technique, but he had style, which was ironic and yet consistent with everything else in his life. He had gotten into her oil pastels and the drawings were messy and vibrant, with waxy smears where he'd gotten impatient and started rubbing with his fingertips for the blends he'd wanted. When she looked at Seifer's hands, his fingertips and the sides of his palms were covered in colors.

 

“Is it? Or am I broken?”

 

“You're not broken,” said Quistis. She hesitated and then added in a deliberately light voice, “Following that logic, I'd be a mass-murdering psychopath who gains strength from eating her victims' organs and brains.”

 

Seifer whipped around to stare at her so fast that Quistis was surprised his head didn't pop off like a screw cap.

 

“I have nightmares too,” said Quistis, looking at a picture Seifer had drawn of Edea when possessed. He had clearly spent some time on this one because the face was more than merely recognizable; it actually did resemble Edea. She assumed the red marks on the face were supposed to be bloody tears.

 

“People have a lot of weird ideas about blue magic,” she said, preparing herself for her next words. A weird shiver went over her as she started talking about things that she'd never outright said to anyone, not even to Xu or Dr. Kadowaki. But years of silence were hard to break all at once. “Do you remember any of the rumors going around when I passed?”

 

“Just the crap ones,” said Seifer, casting his memory back. “The uh.. The sexual ones.”

 

Not that Seifer had ever believed those rumors. For one thing, anybody who looked at Quistis Trepe for more than a second could instantly tell she wasn't the sort who'd compromise her education that way—time spent on one's back was less time hitting the books, after all—and having been the target of certain jealousies himself, Seifer could tell when other people were being shitty for shit's sake. At the time it had made him grind his teeth, because whether the upperclassmen and SeeDs knew it or not, they had been sending a message of _“Don't get ahead of yourself. Don't actually succeed. Or we'll treat you like we're treating Quistis.”_

 

Back then Quistis had put the ugliness to rest by being the best SeeD one could ever be and at the end of the year, there was nobody in the Garden who could say she hadn't deserved the position. Still, the shittiness had already happened and while Seifer had thought she'd just sailed past it, clearly more of it had bothered her than he'd realized.

 

“There were other rumors too,” said Quistis, her gaze refocusing on the past. “Ones that said I cheated. And ones that said the reason I was so good at killing and following orders was because I was less than human... A literal monster, you see.”

 

“That's some bullshit,” said Seifer immediately.

 

“Is it?” Quistis looked at him sidelong, nervousness fizzling in her stomach. They'd talked a bit about what she had been doing in Shumi Village, but only the vague outlines. Now Quistis exhaled and said, “Seifer, you know what I can do. How I can change. And I've learned things about my ancestors that... Well, not being totally human may be the least of my worries.”

 

“You're not worse than I am.”

 

“ _Don't_ do that. We are not competing against each other in this.” Her fingertips tightened around the artpad as she tried to figure out what to say next and more importantly, what she wanted to get across. “The point is, don't give too much credence to your nightmares, Seifer. They're not _you._ You are more than death and slaughter. You are more than madness. You are—”

 

“— _my precious little sister, my little xiaomei. Qu-ah, you don't have to be so scared, okay? I'll always be here.”_

 

“—my boyfriend,” said Quistis softly, a loving smile touching her lips. “You don't have to worry. I'll never be scared of you or run away from you, I promise.”

 

Seifer still stared at her like he'd never seen her before. His scent roiled in ways that made her feel dizzy and slightly nauseous if she paid attention to it, but it calmed as the unsteady firelight from his eyes settled, leaving a sea-green color that reminded her of the waters specifically around the Cape of Good Hope, near the old orphanage.

 

Quistis put down the artpad and held out her arms, and this time Seifer came to her, half-pulling her to him as they hugged. She could feel his heart hammering and then slowly calming down as he took deep, steadying breaths.

 

“Let's do something fun today,” said Quistis when he seemed to be completely calm. “Something we've never done before. Something...”

 

“ _Something untainted by bad memories.”_

 

“The zoo,” said Seifer immediately.

 

“The zoo?” Quistis repeated, surprised at his swift answer.

 

Seifer leaned back a bit, a slightly sheepish smile going around his lips. “I've never been to one. Have you?”

 

Quistis had to think about that. Her adoptive parents had all but kept her confined in the house and after coming to the Garden, there'd simply been no time or room in the budget to take the wards anywhere. Even Xu, as lovely as she was, had never thought about it. “You know... I don't think I've been to one either.”

 

“Awesome,” said Seifer, grinning. “You're never too old to enjoy the zoo, right?”

 

Quistis laughed. “You _really_ want to go.”

 

“Deling City is supposed to have a really sweet one,” he said. “And... Since the weather is supposed to be nice today...”

 

“Yes?”

 

Seifer's eyes gleamed. He seemed a little manic, but Quistis chose not to be worried about that. Seifer would settle. He always did. “Can you _please_ wear a short dress? Something I can see your knees in?”

 

“Oh? You like my knees that much?”

 

“I like your everything that much, all the time. And I've never seen you in a short dress.”

 

“Because I don't own any,” said Quistis, making Seifer shake his head.

 

“You've got that one skirt that you can tie up.”

 

“No,” she said, nevertheless smiling at the hopeful look on his face. “Is it really that important to you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it would be _incredibly_ sexy,” he said, all but vibrating with desire. “And you've never worn a short dress for anyone else before, have you?”

 

“Hmm...” Quistis pretended to be reluctant even as she filed away this particular button in her memory. “I don't know how I feel about that.”

 

“Please? Please? Please?” Quistis kept forgetting that Seifer could be very silly when the mood hit him, which was apparently now. He punctuated every word with a light kiss, making her feel like she was being swarmed by a hungry baby animal. Laughing, Quistis put her hands over Seifer's face and pushed him back lightly. Now she knew he was masking his vulnerability with deliberate distraction, but this could be worked with. And it wasn't bad to have fun, anyway.

 

“Fine,” she said, feeling him grin against her palm. “You win.”

 

So they went out to the zoo. Quistis tried not to be self-conscious. Years of hiding her arms and legs away from the sun had made her very pale, but on the plus side there wasn't enough sun today to make her worry about getting sunburned. She assuaged her need for modesty and practical covering by wearing a long sweater-coat, but Seifer didn't seem to care. He was insistent and playful, leaning against her frequently and sneaking inappropriate touches whenever she wasn't paying attention. It was fun for about an hour. Things reached a peak when they were trying to look for monkeys in their large, tree-filled enclosure and Quistis felt Seifer's hand snake between her dress and her sweater, sliding down her back to pull up the hem of her short dress. At once Quistis flushed from a combination of irritation and mortification, since the zoo was largely devoid of children (it was Friday during the civilian school year) but nowhere near empty.

 

“Stop that,” she said immediately, looking at him.

 

“Stop what?” He asked innocently, but sighed and removed his hand when she kept looking at him flatly. “Come on. Really?”

 

“If I'd known you were going to be such a lech about a short hemline, I would have worn _pants.”_ Quistis brushed her hands down the front of her dress. “I still don't like being grabbed without warning.”

 

“But you _like_ me,” he said, grinning.

 

“Not more than self-respect,” said Quistis, looking at him seriously. When his grin failed to produce the results he wanted, Seifer's expression became somber and he looked away. Quistis went back to looking for monkeys. As they left, he murmured something that sounded like 'sorry' into her ear and kept his hands to himself the rest of the outing, not even moving them from his pockets when she linked her arm with his later.

 

Blip aside, it was a very nice day weather-wise and memory-wise. Quistis had traveled a great deal and seen many monsters, but mundane animals tended to run away from battle instead of toward it, and seeing fluffy non-dangerous creatures was a wonderful change of pace. Seifer all but had to drag her away from the otters and the red pandas and she returned the favor later when they went to the aviary; Seifer ended up spending all his loose change on buying food for the parrots so they would sit on his arms. He never took off his camera-obscuring coat, but Quistis often found him taking pictures of her on his phone with a little smile on his face. When they stopped for lunch at a stall selling hand crepes, Quistis looked through them and felt a little sad surge.

 

“I wish I could have some of you,” she said softly. “I know it's not safe, but...”

 

“FH,” he told her, making her blink. “We'll go out on the water, where there's no one around for miles. And then you can take _whatever_ pictures you like.”

 

“You lech!” Quistis laughed, shaking her head.

 

“You like it.”

 

Eventually they left the zoo to go to the Franzia for dinner, jogging a bit to catch the bus back to the entertainment district. Once on the bus itself, there were exactly two empty seats in the middle and Quistis sat by the window, Seifer taking the aisle. She saw him frown a bit as they took the seats and when she looked at him questioningly, he just fanned his coat a little. Between the warmer fall temperatures outside and the full bus, he was overheating and Quistis couldn't help but stare as Seifer undid the top two buttons on his shirt. For whatever reason, the sight of his collarbone always made her feel a little warm too.

 

They did not catch a direct line, so the bus seemed to stop and start every five minutes, and Quistis could not tell if Seifer's face was getting redder because of the heat or because of the jerky progress. He kept on unfastening buttons with little grumbles of irritation, exposing a tight white undershirt that left very little to the imagination and making his steel necklace glint in the late afternoon light. As his shirt came more open, the complex resin and ambergris smell that came off him became stronger and somehow more musky, making Quistis feel loose and shivery inside. More than one person on the bus was eyeing Seifer too, and Quistis felt like throwing her arms around him and glaring at anyone who dared to look. Maybe even hissing, especially when she saw a petite, buxom girl with curly black hair gazing speculatively at Seifer's lean chest and stomach from across the bus, all but licking her lips. Feeling stupid for the surge of jealousy, Quistis nevertheless put her hand on Seifer's knee just a little higher up than was casual, making him look at her in surprise.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” she said innocently. “Nothing at all.”

 

Seifer frowned and glanced around the bus. More than one person averted their gaze as he looked, and when he focused back on Quistis, a slow knowing smile spread across his lips. Quistis blushed a bit as he threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissing her on the cheek and chuckling softly.

 

“Now you know what it feels like,” he murmured.

 

“What are you talking about?” Quistis asked, a little breathless as his lips brushed over her ear.

 

“Come on, why do you think I was so handsy at the zoo? You turn heads wherever you go.”

 

“I'm sure I would have noticed that,” she said, her gaze dropping to her lap as Seifer reached across to rest his fingertips on her knee. He was very warm and his touch felt like points of pleasant fire that seemed to shoot straight into her core.

 

“You never notice that,” he said, amused. Quistis's breath hitched as Seifer drew his fingertips along the inside line of her thigh, slowly and lightly and yet with a very definite sort of energy. “You're always focused on something else.”

 

She put her hand on his before he could start to go for her hemline again, even though she was just heated enough that she thought she wouldn't mind if he tried. Nevertheless, they were in public and there were certain kinds of touches she would _not_ permit. She jumped when Seifer kissed her behind the ear, the tip of his tongue making an extra shock go down her skin.

 

The bus dropped them off at the gateway of the entertainment district, which at this time of day was flooded with tourists and enterprising locals trying to get a bite to eat and/or make a buck. Seifer cocked his head at the crowd and looked at Quistis, who recognized the gleam in his eye.

 

“What are you planning?” She asked him, not sure if she should be intrigued or bracing herself for something ridiculous.

 

“I'll race you to the hotel.”

 

Quistis looked Seifer up and down. He was 6'2”, broad-shouldered and long-limbed, and had never received Advanced Infiltration training. Quistis found herself smiling.

 

“You're on,” she said confidently. “Let the games begin in three, two—hey!”

 

Damn, he could move fast! But Quistis chuckled and went through the crowd too. Seifer was probably trying to tear through as fast as humanly possible, but Quistis kept her gaze focused about ten feet ahead and moved through shifting gaps of people at a medium-quick pace that never slowed. Once she was free of the main crush, Quistis started to run, drawing startled looks from people who were shocked by her speed and ignoring them all as the thrill of competition flowered in her blood. This was very different from the bar; she wasn't drunk, she wasn't trying to catch Seifer, and most importantly, she had the feeling she could beat him in a dead sprint every day of the week. Seifer's distaste for running as conditioning had definite downsides.

 

When she reached the steps of the Franzia, Quistis looked around and smiled; Seifer was nowhere in sight. She went to the lobby and took a seat, crossing her legs and resting like a queen as she waited for Seifer to show up. And five minutes later, he did. Quistis had an excellent view of the triumphant grin on his face sliding off to become an expression of complete astonishment.

 

“No freaking way,” he said, striding over to her. “How?”

 

“I'm that good,” she said, smiling. In a rare peak of impishness, she said, “Do you want me to teach you?”

 

“Maybe,” said Seifer, eyes gleaming. Quistis laughed but only for a moment. For her, getting quickly through a crowd was part of the job, but in Seifer's case he might need it to save his life. At once Quistis ran through her CV in her mind and saw every class and seminar she'd ever taken as a SeeD that would help a fugitive on the run. And every class she'd ever taken to track people down.

 

“ _His chances are worse than he thinks... Far worse than he thinks... If there's ever a solid lead on him, he'll be caught in no time...”_

 

She jumped slightly as Seifer leaned over the chair, hands on the rests so he was between her and any exit. It was playful and yet utterly demanding of attention, which made Quistis smile.

 

“So,” he said, his voice low and amused. “You won. Got anything fun in mind?”

 

Quistis's smile grew broader even as she blushed. “Yes. And then... Lesson time.”

 

“Ooh,” said Seifer, his eyes gleaming. “I like the sound of that.”

 

Quistis straightened glasses she wasn't wearing and smiled professionally.

 

/\/\/\

 

In the wake of the Lunar Cry, one of the few structures in the entire country of Esthar still left standing was the Presidential Palace. It was a blessing, a curse, and for Laguna, a reminder to do better every single day. He went to work in an office with walls made of plate glass and the first and last thing he saw at both ends of his work day was the sight of his country in ruins, which set him aflame with the desire to get everyone back into the sunshine as fast as possible. New Esthar, built far below the surface with the aid of the Shumi, was practically bursting to the seams already and people did not seem to understand that having babies was a strain on the hardworking and stressed enviroment. The sooner people could spread out again, the better.

 

To that end, Laguna used the army and multiple private forces (primary of which was SeeD) to clear the surface, and he also sank money into any sort of promising science that looked like it might help. Conventional monster fences didn't even seem to register for Lunar Beasts and even the amazing cutting power of hard light blades and laser projectiles didn't do more than make them annoyed. But Laguna wasn't surprised. The damn things had survived flying through space, entering the atmosphere, and crash-landing to the planet with strength to spare _,_ so why would normal means suffice?

 

In a fit of desperation, Laguna had even tried out some of the weapons from Adel's reign that had been locked away and attempted to blast the creatures since everyone was now safely underground. They worked, but barely. Multimil-gil bombs were worthless since they could only take down a handful of beasts at a time; plus the bombs blasted parts of the Beasts everywhere and when Lunar Beasts died, they dissolved into that red gel that had carried them through space. And the gel was toxic, not only corroding all but the toughest of materials but also poisoning the air in a visible red mist that hung low and turned peoples' lungs to bags of shredded tissue and blood. People were having to wear masks now to breathe the frigging aboveground air, and they were calling the red-misted atmosphere 'the miasma'.

 

There were other concerns too. With so much agricultural area destroyed, Esthar was constantly on the verge of starving to death, and every bit of money made on state industry went straight to buying food. There was very little medicine. Nearly every factory and manufacturing facility had been destroyed either in the initial Cry or by Lunar Beasts. Thousands of people were unable to work due to injury, emotional trauma, and simple lack of access to the tools they needed. Governments around the world were putting caps on the number of Estharian immigrants who could legally enter their countries, which didn't stop the truly desperate from trying and sometimes dying in the process. There were many, many orphans, both true orphans and ones who'd lost just one parent and were struggling to stay afloat.

 

There was a very obvious or at least tangential solution to some of these things, but Laguna resisted the idea up until some madman went into a state home for true orphans, sealed all the doors and windows, and then proceeded to gas himself and everyone else to death with chlorine and bleach “so the productive citizens of Esthar might live a little longer”. It was an unthinkable tragedy, but to Laguna's horror there was a swell of support for the madman, encapsulated perfectly in the worlds of Senator Zolomon Ghan.

 

"It is a horrible tragedy, of course, but Esthar did as well as it could by these orphans. We must keep our focus on the thousands of families struggling to survive, the tens of thousands who are sick from Lunar Beast injury and miasma inhalation, and maintaining the survival of Esthar's spirit in the face of losing our homeland and a sudden flood of foreign influence, which stretches our resources even thinner. We must concentrate on what is truly important."

 

Laguna was not stupid. He knew what Zolomon was implying and Laguna hated how the scared, starving, sickly Estharian populace jumped on his line. He knew people were angry and afraid, but there was no reason to trample the weakest among them because of it. Children needed to be protected by whatever means possible, even if those means were... Unconventional. Still, Laguna cried off and on the entire night before he called up Squall and asked him to put on Headmaster Xiong of Balamb Garden.

 

“Hello, President Loire,” said Xu Xiong, looking at him with a perfectly cultivated expression of professional calm. At first look, Laguna had thought she was his son's age, but the instant Xu opened her mouth, Laguna realized that Xu was probably in her early thirties and simply blessed with a young-looking face. Laguna could relate.

 

“What can Balamb Garden do for you today?” She asked, tilting her head.

 

“It's not me that needs the help,” said Laguna, steeling himself for what he was about to do. “I... Let me ask you, how exactly does one become a SeeD? The children, specifically?”

 

“There are two types of children that the Garden takes on,” said Xu, folding her hands together. “After passing several written exams and a physical examination, children are separated into either the SeeD track or the support track. The SeeD track students are immediately put into physical conditioning, a well-rounded curriculum concerning a variety of subjects, and assuming that they pass all their academic requirements, are eligible for the qualifying SeeD exam at age 15.”

 

Fifteen. Laguna winced. That was so young. Laguna remembered wearing the same clothes for a week straight just because he could at age 15.

 

“And... How young do you take the children?” Laguna asked, swallowing hard.

 

“We'll take wards as young as six, but they don't start any sort of Garden-specific education until they're ten.”

 

“Ten?” Laguna repeated, surprised. “I thought—”

 

“You're thinking of the Six,” said Xu, making Laguna nod slowly. “Their cases are unusual. They were the literal first class of the Balamb Garden curriculum, back before the Garden even existed. It was by watching their development that the former Headmaster and the founder of the Gardens decided that _ten_ was the cutoff age for everybody else. From a physical and psychological development standpoint, children under ten were deemed to be... Unsuitable for the program.”

 

“ _But not before you tried it out on the first set of kids,”_ thought Laguna, his heart becoming bitter. _“Not before you hurt them in the name of training them.”_

 

“Tell me about the support track,” said Laguna, making Xu frown.

 

“Tell me what this is about,” she returned.

 

Laguna passed his hand over his eyes. “I... Esthar... Recently we lost about forty children... And...”

 

“You're talking about the Tuam Tragedy,” said Xu softly, her gaze darkening. “My deepest condolences. Truly. Did you want us to investigate?”

 

“No, nothing like that...” God, the idea that that sick man hadn't been acting alone made Laguna nauseous. “I just, umm... How does one go about becoming a ward of Balamb Garden?”

 

Xu raised her head slowly. “You want to see if we can take any orphans from Esthar?”

 

“At least that way I know some of the children will be fed, sheltered, and _safe,_ at least in one way _,_ ” said Laguna miserably, raking his hand through his hair. “Everybody knows how SeeDs put their lives on the lines for children.”

 

“We'd like to help out,” said Xu, looking pained. “Really, we would. But the best I can do is send out test proctors to Esthar. I can't take children blindly.”

 

“I understand,” said Laguna, his heart heavy. “I just...”

 

“You feel like you're selling us your children,” said Xu, her voice cooling. “And pushing them into a bloody fate that they are not old enough to consent to.”

 

Laguna bowed his head. “Yes.”

 

“That's not untrue,” said Xu, making Laguna exhale hard. “But let me tell you a story. I come from a very large family in a very poor part of the world. The First Sorceress War didn't just wreck our land; it also ruined my father for work and eventually killed him when he drowned himself in despair. When I was about twelve years old, there came an opportunity for me to learn a trade, send some money back home, and retire with a very nice nest egg with a lot of benefits. I'd just lost my little twin brothers to starvation, so you can see why I thought this was an attractive proposition. At the time I signed up to become a SeeD, I had already seen death. At least when I was the one dealing it out, I had control.”

 

“Do you regret it?” Laguna asked softly, stunned at Xu's personal but calm delivery.

 

“I don't regret the decision for me,” said Xu, her eyes clear. “And I don't think you'll find many SeeDs who do. But then, you don't survive in this business if you're weighed down by regrets. And we never stop anyone from leaving if this isn't what they want to do.”

 

“What if they don't have anywhere to go?”

 

“We don't drop our wards,” said Xu, sounding mildly annoyed. “If someone doesn't want to be a SeeD, they can go into the support track. And the support track experience translates well to a variety of civilian jobs including electrical and civil engineering, medicine, clerical work... You get the idea.”

 

Laguna nodded, feeling slightly better about things. “How do you tell which students go where?”

 

“Aptitude tests.”

 

“And what aptitude are you looking for?”

 

“Depends on the track,” said Xu. She tilted her head. “President Loire, can I ask you something?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Do you want to send us some of your orphans? Or do you want us to build a Garden in Esthar?”

 

Laguna boggled. The idea had honestly never occurred to him.

 

“Bear in mind that if we do build a Garden in Esthar, it counts as an extraterritoriality as per Garden regulations,” said Xu, resting her chin on her hands. “Which means it would basically be its own country following Garden rules, but also able to receive funding from Balamb, Trabia, and Galbadia Gardens. SeeDs will also be on the ground all the time to train and protect the children, as well as be available _immediately_ for the long-term jobs you already pay us for. And...”

 

Xu's eyes turned black and very hard.

 

“I personally guarantee that if anything like the Tuam Tragedy happens again, SeeDs will happily take care of the matter for free.”

 

“How can you be so protective of children and still raise them to be killers?” Laguna asked before he could stop himself.

 

“You're acting like the Galbadian army doesn't do the same thing with state-fostered children,” said Xu, making Laguna's lips thin. “And at least in our case, our students receive a minimum of five years of training before they're put into dangerous situations, as opposed to a year for the army and six months for municipal law enforcement.”

 

“But they're so young...”

 

“President Loire, you originally became a soldier when you were in your mid-twenties, yes?” Xu asked, making Laguna blink. “Squall told me. He also said that you joined the army because you wanted to travel... Not necessarily survive.”

 

“But if you're doing it to survive, you're basically being forced into it!” said Laguna, his voice rising with passion. “How is that ethical?”

 

“How ethical is preventing parentless children from obtaining life skills that they can use to support themselves and others?” Xu responded coolly. As Laguna opened his mouth, Xu held up her hand slightly and said, “Let me remind you, President Loire, that _you_ are the one who called _me._ I am more than happy to provide any services that you require professionally. However, I am under no obligation to passively listen to you defame the lifestyle that essentially _saved the world._ We can wring our hands about the lives the Six should have had until we all fall to dust, but I honestly have more productive things to do. So, do you need me for anything, President Loire, or do I need to start billing for a consultation?”

 

Laguna took a deep breath, imagining that he was gathering the mantle of office around him. Through his 13 years of presidency, he had made a variety of unpopular decisions. However, this one was on a completely different scale and he hoped that he would not die regretting what he was about to say.

 

“I would be much obliged if you would send us several Garden proctors,” said Laguna formally.

 

“Then I will refer you to my Dean of Students,” said Xu, nodding just as formally. “And he and you or whoever you deem qualified on your end can make the arrangements.”

 

“Thank you, Headmaster Xiong.”

 

“You're welcome, President Loire. And... One more thing.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“If it wasn't for SeeD, you never would have met Squall,” said Xu before ending the call. And for a long time, Laguna stared at the screen and couldn't figure out how to feel about anything.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: hahaha, WILD extrapolation about the Garden system. I figured that as awesome as SeeDs were, you still need support staff to help you on your missions because you can't learn everything yourself, especially when it comes to things like getting supplies and fake permits and yadda yadda. There is too much information to learn. Hence the support track, which also provides a haven for kids who don't have 'killer' in them.

 

Had to look up a certain amount of stuff about survival sex work for the second part of the chapter. A lot of survival sex work is done by LGBTQ+ youth who've been kicked out of their homes and are denied housing and shelter for certain reasons, so they engage in sex work for things like food and a roof over their heads. Obviously this is not good for a variety of reasons, but arguing the ethics of their situation doesn't _change_ their situation because they still have to eat, be able to sleep someplace safe, and ideally escape the situation that drove them to survival sex work in the first place. The parallels seemed pretty obvious to me.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	26. Chapter 26

“Come on, it'll be great,” said Seifer, his voice light even as he watched the train to Balamb pull into the station. He was standing with Quistis on the platform, holding her bag and her hand and trying to pretend like he wasn't delaying the inevitable. “No one would know it was me. I could just run around... Wreak some havoc... Which reminds me, there's a couple of annoying shits who need to have their doors caulked shut.”

 

“No,” said Quistis, trying not to let him know how tempting the idea sounded. It was true that between his bracelets and his camera-shy coat, Seifer _could_ probably run around in Balamb Garden with no one being the wiser, but there was just too much scrutiny. Still...

 

“I could hide in the basement.”

 

“No!” Quistis laughed at the mental image.

 

“Or camp out in the Training Center.”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

Seifer sighed, the pained note in his voice lost as the train slowed down with a ear-cracking squeal of brakes. As the platform began to fill up with people leaving the train, Seifer pulled Quistis into a hug and buried his face in her hair. She was disguising herself with a light scarf and sunglasses today, which meant he was able to breathe the scent of her hair without a wig in the way.

 

“You're coming to FH,” he said, not upturned enough to be a question but not firm enough to be a statement.

 

“Yes,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Stay safe.”

 

Seifer chuckled softly at that. For the past two days, Quistis had put him through a crash course of the classes he would have taken as a SeeD, and between Seifer's motivation to learn and Quistis paring everything down to the essentials, they'd gotten through a fair bit. Still, he knew she would worry.

 

“...Maybe I should just ride on the train with you,” said Seifer, pretending like he was just trying to set her mind at ease. “It's been a while since I've gone to the beach.”

 

“You can go if you want, but I'll be spending all my time with Xu before going back to Shumi Village. And before you ask, _yes,_ I do mean all my time. It was hard enough for her to get three days, even though two of them are on a weekend.” And Quistis sighed as Seifer muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath. She chose to believe it was something that didn't insult her oldest friend.

 

Passengers were starting to board the train to Balamb now. Quistis sighed shakily and started to move away, but as soon as she stepped back Seifer leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the lips, chaste and yet very intimate indeed; his warmth, his presence, his scent seemed to curl around her and simultaneously make her very happy and sad. After a week of concentrated and unfettered time together, it was going to be a long two months until they saw each other again. Quistis's knees went weak when Seifer gently cupped her face in both hands, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over her cheeks. He didn't say anything, just rested his forehead against hers with his gaze focused on hers like he was trying to remember everything. His silence made her heart hurt a little.

 

“I'll see—” She started to say.

 

“No.”

 

“No?” Quistis repeated, then understood what Seifer was getting at as his eyes seemed to flash with something that looked like irritation. She laughed softly and then kissed his palms, gratified when the hostile look ( _“don't go”_ ) relaxed ever so slightly ( _“if you have to, I guess”_ ). And then after a last light kiss Quistis left, feeling his gaze linger on her back even after she settled into her cabin. On a whim she rolled the window shades up but Seifer was already gone, which made her sigh a bit—it was better for security, but she'd half-hoped he'd be waiting for one last glimpse. Shaking her head free of the idea, Quistis settled back in her chair and mentally prepared herself for the ride back to the Garden.

 

It was very silly, but Quistis felt like there was active resistance in her chest the further away she got from Seifer. It peaked when Deling City at last disappeared off the curve of the horizon but did not subside. How annoying. Quistis pressed her hand over the worst ache, her fingers closing around the locket Seifer had given her as a belated birthday present a few hours ago. It was a small but perfect opalized ammonite hinged in gold, and inside was a very tightly rolled piece of paper with an email address.

 

“ _We can talk to each other now...”_

 

Check-ins would have to be rare and erratic for security purposes but still, being able to email would be nice and it would be very easy to make a free account just for communication purposes. If anyone ever asked why she had a civilian account, she could claim embarrassment about her side job necessitating discretion. After all, it wasn't very professional for a SeeD to be drawing erotic comics for fun and profit.

 

“ _I suppose that actually means I have to draw something now...”_ thought Quistis with a little sigh. Since she'd started having sex, she found that her motivation to create erotica was somewhat lacking; perhaps the energy used to make the comics was now being diverted to other ends. She could still _do_ it, but it felt a bit more like work instead of play especially since her interest in blue magic was taking up all of her mental energy. So Quistis compromised and spent the next few hours coming up with half-human, half-animal character designs, and the hours to Balamb vanished quickly.

 

/\/\/\

 

Seifer hated feeling like he was at the mercy of anything or anyone, and his distaste for that feeling had only increased since Ultimecia. Nevertheless, no matter hard he swore at himself or tried to tell himself that two months would go by quick, there was an aching pit of longing that seemed to grow the further away the train to Balamb went, and Seifer breathed past the flutters of anxiety that threatened to break his sanity with thoughts like _“what if Quistis finds someone else”_ and _“what if you get caught before you can meet again”_. As he left the train station, he clenched his hands to keep warmth of Quistis's lips in his palms a little longer and took off on a brisk walk in the cooling fall air. Fall had always made Seifer more irritated. It reminded him of all the things he hadn't accomplished in the preceding months. So Seifer tried to steer his mind onto work.

 

“ _The Red Coffin doesn't want me here and they'll probably try to force me out if I try to pick up another job... Well, that's fine. I've got enough money for another week if I'm careful. Worse comes to worst, I'll go back to FH and save some more hoes.”_

 

It wasn't a stellar plan but at least better than nothing. And speaking of plans that were just barely sufficient, Seifer started looking for the monster bounty office. Every major city had one for people who could bring in various corpses or cleaned bones, which were used for things like medicine, weapons upgrades, and even frivolous things like jewelry. Deling City had three monster bounty offices, which suited Seifer just fine. Unlike picking up contracts as a freelancer, there were no 'dibs' once someone took a job. Seifer went to the three offices, recorded the details on the highest-paying bounties, and went out to hunt. SeeDs were often dispatched for tricky monster hunts, so Seifer dredged up what he could remember of Tracking as he went out into the fields surrounding Deling City. Mindful of the dry weather, Seifer kept his fire lore to himself as he looked around, but wasn't above using controlled bursts to keep one of the bounties contained when he found it after three days of tracking. It was a large, wolflike monster and after winging it with shots of fire, Seifer at last managed to slit its throat. As the beast bled out, Seifer took off everything above the waist; there was no point in getting his clothing messy.

 

“ _After this, I'm sticking to dead bodies,”_ thought Seifer grimly as he gutted and deboned the monster (the bounty had been for the organs and the bones). _“This shit is nasty, smelly, and I have to carry it at least five miles back before I get paid. Ugh.”_

 

Irregular thumps made Seifer look up and he saw a man and a woman on chocobos come up to him. His hackles rose slowly but definitely as he took in their weaponry, their monster-hide boots, and how they eyed the bones he was setting aside.

 

“Hey boy,” said the man in a friendly sort of a way. “Your ride run off?”

 

“None of your business,” said Seifer, stopping in the middle of defleshing a femur. “What do you want?”

 

“You out here all alone?” said the man while the woman exclaimed, “You walked?!”

 

Seifer shrugged. It answered both queries to his satisfaction. However, the monster hunters didn't leave and Seifer didn't feel comfortable taking his focus away while they were there. It occurred to him that they could easily kill him, hide his body, and then take back the bounty he'd done the hard part on.

 

“What do you want?” He repeated when they showed no signs of moving.

 

“Just wondering if you'd like some help carrying that back,” said the man, gesturing at the bloody, once-living pile. “It's gonna be heavy.”

 

“I'll manage.”

 

“Now, don't be like that. You won't stay young forever and you might as well spare your body some abuse before you get too old,” said the man.

 

“No,” said Seifer shortly. Even if they were being honest, they'd probably demand an exorbitant cut of the bounty 'for services rendered'. Or they'd push him off the birds and then run off with his kill. Just in case they got desperate enough to rush him, Seifer got to his feet, making it obvious that he was armed.

 

“Easy now,” said the man, his eyelids flickering. “Don't want to get hurt, do ya?”

 

“Don't threaten me and **you** won't get hurt,” said Seifer, making the two of them exchange a quick glance. Seifer's hackles rose all the way then, especially when he realized that when he'd taken off his coat and shirt, he'd also taken off Edea's disguising bracelets. It had been purely practical since he hadn't wanted the scale mail to get gummed up with blood, but now unless he was mistaken, the monster hunters could see who he was. And if that was the case, that would explain why they were being so friendly. They were trying to take him in alive for the 5-million-gil bounty.

 

At once Seifer's senses went on high alert, all the blood in his body seeming to rush to the surface of his skin to energize his eyes, ears, and proprioception. That was the only way he heard the very soft crunch of a footstep behind him in the long grass, and as Seifer threw himself to the left without warning, he told himself he wasn't being paranoid because why on earth would people after the bounty be stupid enough to both approach him from the front?

 

“Shit!” said the third person, and as Seifer rolled to his feet and turned around, his blood roared in his ears as he saw _four_ people now looking at him. The man and the woman on the chocobos had drawn their weapons and the two who'd been sneaking up behind him had reinforced wands; they were mages. One of them had probably tried to slap a Sleep on him.

 

“Just come in quietly, Almasy,” said the man on the chocobo, aiming a rifle at him. All friendliness was gone from his voice now, though the relaxed drawl remained. “You don't have to die today.”

 

“No, I'll just die on public television, won't I?” Seifer sneered, assessing his chances. If there wasn't the possibility of setting the entire continent on fire by accident, he would have hurled his lore at them and run away in the confusion, but they were also standing between him and his clothes and he sort of needed those. Time to murder his way past everyone, then. Seifer pointed his knife at one of the mages like a threat and as he gathered his fire lore into his left arm instead, he said, “This is your last chance to go before I have to get mean.”

 

“You're outmatched, Almasy,” said the woman, aiming at him with a rifle of her own. “We've been working together for twenty years and haven't ever lost a fight.”

 

“Then you've been picking easy fights,” said Seifer, and flicked a small fireball at one of the chocobos. It hit the far bird in the chest and at once the beast freaked out, warking and flailing like mad, and the woman yelled as her mount threw her and ran away. Automatically everyone turned to look and Seifer ran, closing the distance in a flash and stabbing the first mage up through the stomach and ribs before he even realized what was wrong. Seifer imagined pulling a gunblade trigger as the mage's head flopped backwards, blood bubbling from his mouth, and the second mage screamed as fire lore boiled the first mage's head and made it explode like a hideous grenade in her direction. As she dropped her wand in horror, Seifer stabbed her in the heart, using sheer force to crack through ribs and pierce organs.

 

“ _Damn, it's stuck,”_ thought Seifer as the second mage collapsed, dragging his blade down with her. Seifer let go and turned to face the original man and the woman, who was getting to her feet in growing panic. 

 

“You all fucked up,” he told them frankly, satisfaction thrilling his blood as he saw the fear in their eyes. “Before I was the Mad Knight, I was a SeeD born and bred. By the time most people get their driver's licenses, I had a hundred kills to my name. So there was never any way you were going to leave alive after starting this shit with me.”

 

The man swung up his rifle to fire. Seifer tightened, mentally preparing himself for a maneuver that he had come up with to keep sea flies from biting him and that Quistis had recognized the potential of. When the man fired, a sheet of white-hot fire burst into being around Seifer's skin and he felt a painful slap of impact as the shotgun pellets hit—and then melted to nothing. The man and woman gaped in horror as Seifer started striding for them, uninjured, his hand tightening around his remaining knife.

 

“I told you, you all fucked up,” said Seifer with a savage grin. The woman was the obvious target, but the man was the one who was actually dangerous, so Seifer feinted for her and then blasted the man in the face with a fireball as he tried to create some distance. The man fell off his chocobo screaming, his head a burning torch, and Seifer killed him before he could suffer too much. Grabbing the chocobo's reins before it could flee, Seifer controlled the panicky animal with a hard jerk and then faced the woman, who had fallen onto her backside and was shaking so badly that Seifer thought she might wet herself.

 

“I'm gonna leave you alive,” said Seifer, making sure he had eye contact. “And I'll leave you the monster bounty for funerary expenses. But when you go back to the city, you tell everyone not to fuck with me unless they want closed-casket funerals. You say it that way _exactly,_ and if I hear otherwise, I'll take it out on you _personally_. Got it?”

 

The woman nodded, absolutely terrified, and ran off into the grasslands. Seifer gathered up his clothes, his second knife, and put what he could in the chocobo's saddlebags. On impulse he snatched up one of the monster's knucklebones with a vague idea of keeping a souvenir. Then, feeling like a real outlaw, Seifer rode off with ruin at his back and a bright future at his front. Maybe the two months would go by quickly after all.

 

/\/\/\

 

Most days, Zama truly enjoyed the human world. For the Shumi, life was like a deep and fast-running river, apparently slow on the surface while in reality, one could drown in the fascinating, contemplative life and happily die there. Humans, on the other hand, lived like raindrops; short, speedy, occasionally forceful and violent, and a wonder to behold. Zama had originally agreed to become the Dean of Students for Balamb Garden as a favor to his friend Norg, but as the years had gone by and Norg had changed from a scholar of human behavior to a wealth-addicted death peddler, Zama mourned the loss of his intelligent friend by dedicating himself to overseeing the Garden children. Norg found his affection foolish and had increasingly less patience with it every year, which resulted in terse verbal confrontations over the phone. Thus, Zama was beyond surprised when Norg himself showed up at Balamb Garden, though the shape Norg was in was just as startling.

 

“You have not been taking care of yourself,” said Zama severely when the two Elder Shumi were alone in his office. Norg gestured at him irritably, flashing more of his palm than was polite. He was human-fat, the result of nursing negative emotion for too long, and shaped more like a dugong than a slim tree. How had he gotten through the doors?

 

“I came all this way for something a bit more important than my health,” said Norg, making Zama frown. “My legacy. The Gardens. You are putting them at risk.”

 

“Me? I cannot imagine why,” said Zama mildly, though he had a feeling that he knew what Norg was on about. And he was not disappointed as Norg glared. It was such an ugly expression on a Shumi face. Humans could glare beautifully, all fire and homicidal intent. Norg just looked like he was constipated.

 

“I have been listening to the current human news and interest in Balamb for the past week, and little of it involving my Gardens is very good,” said Norg, making Zama lace his hands together. “Therefore, you will make public the student profile of Seifer Almasy.”

 

“He is still a ward,” said Zama. “Underage. I will not.”

 

“Fushururu,” said Norg, making Zama go tight at the insult. “While you play with babies, I am looking out into the world and _not_ liking the shape of what I see. My nation is under attack by those who would use the Mad Knight as a sword against all I have built. You will throw him into the forge before he can be used to slit our throats.”

 

“I will not betray a ward.”

 

“He betrayed us first!” Norg snapped with a vulgar flare of his palm. “That boy... I remember him as a child. Brittle, bitter, impossible to educate... And yet Cid and Edea insisted on coddling him, nurturing his worst attributes.”

 

“I remember no such thing,” said Zama evenly. He had visited the Kramer Orphanage together with Norg when the Gardens had still been a noble dream and while Norg had negotiated with determined Edea and supportive Cid, Zama had gone around the orphanage examining the warriors-to-be. He remembered Seifer Almasy as a young boy. Proud, clever, as brilliant as a comet in the sky. Years later Zama was sad to see that the spark he'd admired was bent under trauma and twisted in the pursuit of a prize that he was constantly denied.

 

“You have a selective memory,” said Norg, angrily flexing his hands. Zama at once noticed how stiff they were, a sign that Norg had even gone so far as to neglect his daily meditation. So much for hoping that having a student to train would force him to take care of himself.

 

“If you do not make the information public, then we will look to be shielding him,” said Norg, starting to pace. “My nation has ever existed in a strange boundary, and strong though we are, we will not withstand a continued assault from hostile forces. Martine's treachery was nearly the end of us already.”

 

“He did what he thought necessary to protect the children,” said Zama, thinking of how hard Martine had tried to keep the Sorceress out of Galbadia Garden.

 

“And hid his own bujururun self behind them,” cursed Norg again, making Zama sigh at the profanity. “Not that it matters... He served his purpose, turning Galbadia Garden into what the rest of them should have been all along.”

 

“That is not why we originally supported this venture,” said Zama with a frown.

 

“Times change,” said Norg, making Zama shake his head.

 

“You are too human now,” said Zama, making Norg glare again. “Short-sighted. Greedy.”

 

“And you are no doubt a saint. Fushururu.” Norg pointed aggressively at Zama, his dark eyes glinting. “One would think that you would wish to preserve what you have worked for. The Gardens require pruning for optimum health. Tell me, old friend, do you consider the Mad Knight a success or a failure? For did he not display the _intelligence_ and _initiative_ that the pathetic old married couple waxed so eloquently about?”

 

“Seifer Almasy was a good child when he was here,” said Zama, trying not to show how deeply Norg's words had cut him. “And I believe that he is still a good child no matter where he is.”

 

“He murdered three humans in cold blood,” said Norg flatly.

 

“That is what he is trained to do, is he not?” Zama asked, this time making Norg look away. “By your definition _and_ mine, he is a good child indeed.”

 

“His very existence endangers all the others,” said Norg, looking at Zama from the sides of his eyes like a human. “If we are to pit our Gardens against the world, let it not be over the Mad Knight. Give him over.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because every child deserves protection,” said Zama, making Norg throw another rude gesture at him. “Something that you once believed with all of your heart.”

 

“They are children no longer.”

 

“Neither are they investments for your 'nation',” said Zama, shaking his head. “You fancy yourself a king, but the SeeDs are the ones who have truly built and cultivated this land. You are, at best, a tax collector.”

 

“And I'm to believe that you've simply forgiven the Gardens of _your_ loan, then?” Norg asked Zama acerbically. 

 

“It was always a gift,” said Zama, making Norg scoff in disgust.

 

“You are as poisonously stubborn as ever,” said Norg. “Will nothing change your mind?”

 

“Not as far as I am aware.”

 

“Then you had best pray the Galbadians understand that quickly,” said Norg, making Zama lace his hands together tightly. “And everyone else who wants the Mad Knight's bounty. I cannot imagine you have been at peace since his desertion.”

 

“There have been requests for information.”

 

“And how long do you think the humans will remain polite?” Norg smiled humorlessly. “They live a hundred years at best and flare like embers from a fire. They are such an impatient people, capable of great cruelty in the name of whatever they can twist their reason to. It would be a shameful, disappointing end to your long life to catch on fire and burn to death when all you wanted was to protect a spark.”

 

“Then I will at least be warm,” said Zama, thinking of all the bright little children he had ever met. The living ones shone like torches, but the ones who had passed on for various reasons glowed in his heart like stars. He would meet them all one day to tell them how wonderful they all were. Norg stared at him, becoming increasingly frustrated when Zama smiled and said nothing more.

 

“Bujururu!” exhorted Norg finally, and sat down on the floor. No chair could accommodate his particular shape anyway, but with a Shumi's manner of accumulating bulk, it was like sinking into a chair. As Norg folded his long arms over his stomach, he muttered, “At least the student you sent me is not nearly so foolish. Perhaps she will replace _you_ and set things aright one day.”

 

“Quistis Trepe is doing well, then?”

 

“She is doing as well as the Mad Knight has done poorly,” said Norg with a grumble of irritation and pride. “What has taken previous students months, she learns and understands in days. She is not even encumbered by that cult foolishness.”

 

“All religion is not a cult, Norg.”

 

“We will differ on this.” Norg rubbed his dewlap. “If only she did not have quite so many skills. Every skill a blue sage takes on makes their bodies more malleable, and without strong discipline they begin to change shapes with a thought. I would have concerns with eight skills, and Quistis Trepe has sixteen.”

 

“You said she is doing well.”

 

“For now. The other problem is her temperament: she will wish to learn everything as soon as possible, and this will only increase the possibility of a tragic accident. She needs a challenge to slow her down.” Norg shrugged. “On the other hand, you were correct in her ability to assimilate shocking and unpleasant things. The Elder showed her the First Secret.”

 

Zama blinked, sitting up straighter. “He did!”

 

“ _Just_ the first. But I would not be surprised if he showed her the others soon.” Norg drummed his fingertips on his stomach pensively. “She has expressed the usual desire to go to the moon, but we have finally reached the point in human development where such a thing is possible. And while the Elder believes this can only be for the best, I have certain reservations.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“Fushuru. There is no point in speaking of them now.” He flexed his hands, his eyes narrowing somewhat. “And if things should come to the worst, it would be best to keep Quistis Trepe unaware until the critical moment. She is a combat prodigy and would be able to deflect any hasty attempt on her life.”

 

Zama thinned his lips. “If that is what you fear, then why teach her at all?”

 

“Because it may be that her human blood wins out and that she remains happy here.” Norg rubbed his slitted nostrils, not side-to-side and underneath like humans but instead stroking downwards with one long fingertip. “And having a well-educated agent to protect against the Eve is no bad thing at all.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I think Norg could have been well-used in the game, so while his existence as a plot device annoys me, I am repurposing him for this fic.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	27. Chapter 27

The train arrived at Balamb Station early enough in the morning that the only people about were locals and enterprising nature tourists, so Quistis was able to go through town without being recognized. Impulsively she decided not to rent a car; she had spent the last twelve hours sitting and anyway, a brisk walk would pump blood through muscles that were getting soft with inactivity. She readied her jian but didn't think she would need it for the walk to the Garden, as none of the beasts on Balamb Island were a challenge any more and thanks to Norg's training, all her skills were so close to the surface that she could use them as easily as her whip. All except one, and Shockwave Pulsar wasn't one she wanted to practice over and over again. Of all her skills, that one came from something that was more than beastly and Quistis always felt like part of her very soul got sucked out every time she used it. Maybe it was the price for having the power of a Guardian Force without contracting with one formally.

 

About halfway to the Garden, Quistis encountered a swarm of Bite Bugs. She knew she could dispatch them, but decided to go around them instead since she didn't feel like getting sticky with bug goo today. The Bite Bugs noticed her attempted evasion and gave chase, oversize jaws drooling at the prospect of chomping down on her, and Quistis started running. At once she realized just how out of shape she was as her breath came harder much faster than it should have, and with a grumble she realized that she'd soon tire and have to face the Bugs in combat. Then again...

 

“ _No one's around,”_ she reasoned as she took a very deep breath and _leaped_ in a particular way, stretching her hands out in front of her. As fur rippled out of her skin and a long tail popped the base of her spine, Quistis smiled as her preference for skirts and stretchy clothing allowed her to blend into her transformation with no loss of decency or belongings; her backpack shifted to stay between her now-feline shoulderblades, and the double-strapped sword belt kept the narrow jian as close to her side as possible. With four legs to run now instead of two Quistis put on a burst of speed that quickly left the Bite Bugs behind, though when she looked over her shoulder she realized that they had stopped giving chase. They were in fact buzzing around the road in confusion, circling approximately over the place where she'd given up her human shape.

 

Curiously Quistis switched back, and it was like she'd yelled in the Bugs' earholes: they came right for her. She waited until they were nearly on her before shifting to leopard again, and once again the Bugs stopped as she seemingly went invisible before their eyes. Experimentally Quistis swatted at one of them and instantly the Bugs fled, much like they would in front of any large superior predator. What that implied made Quistis turn back to human just so she could smile all the way back to the Garden.

 

It was around 9am when Quistis arrived at Balamb Garden, and she greeted the gate attendant with a smile as she checked in with her ID number. He smiled back, but didn't seem to recognize her until he glanced at her number on the screen, and only his yell of recognition behind her back let Quistis know what had happened. After dropping her things off in one of the dorm rooms set aside for transient operatives, Quistis went to the third floor in search of Xu. It was a Sunday so she should have been in her room, but instead Quistis heard a dull thumping noise coming out of Xu's office, and so Quistis went to check there instead. As the Assistant Headmaster, Xu had already worked long hours and Quistis couldn't imagine any reason why Xu would work _less_ now that she was in charge, but still, she'd never put in time on weekends before.

 

“Xu?” Quistis called, looking into the Headmaster's Office. Xu was at her desk, softly but repeatedly whacking her head against the surface. Quistis came in and stuck her hand under Xu's head before she could give herself a brain injury. “What are you doing?”

 

“The alternative to screaming my head off,” said Xu, sitting up. To Quistis's shock, the dark-haired SeeD actually looked her age, which was always a bad sign. When had those dark circles appeared? Quistis felt terrible for not being around to notice earlier, and the terribleness only grew when Xu came around the desk and gave her a hug. The half-idea that Xu had been restricting her time to punish Quistis puffed away.

 

“Were you working here all night?” Quistis asked Xu as she hugged the older woman back.

 

“Unfortunately.” Xu sighed. Giving Quistis a squeeze and then letting go, she sat back on her desk and folded her arms, saying, “We took a big hit in a lot of ways during the Second Sorceress War and Time Compression. We're down a lot of SeeDs and a LOT of seniors who would have otherwise made SeeD, which means few operatives to go get the cash. We're graduating a new class, but freelancers, bounty hunters, and the ICSO are taking bites out of our sides. If President Loire ever drops our long-term agreement for SeeD teams to clear Esthar's surface, we're not going staying in the black for any length of time. I don't suppose you've got any ideas for us to make money?”

 

Quistis looked at Xu somewhat suspiciously, but finally decided Xu was just talking aloud instead of trying to reel her back in. And it wasn't a bad thing to help out a friend.

 

“Have you thought about renting out our support staff?”

 

Xu cocked her head. “Why our support staff?”

 

“Because there's no reason why we can't make money off them too,” said Quistis, making Xu's brows raise. “There's no shortage of _them,_ and meanwhile plenty of ICSO guilds that could use highly trained staffers for jobs they otherwise wouldn't take.”

 

“You want to rent _our_ support staff to other mercenary companies?”

 

Quistis nodded, making Xu stare a bit. “The reason we have a support track in the first place is because we know that not one SeeD can do everything. Someone is always going to need someone who can repair and operate highly specialized vehicles, who knows how to extract people quickly and quietly, and if nothing else, seamless body disposal will always have a high demand.”

 

“You know there's unbonded and ICSO who already do that, right? We'd be competing against tens if not hundreds of established groups that are already out there doing the same thing.”

 

“But how many of them are truly reliable?” Quistis asked pointedly, and at last Xu looked considering. “Not to mention we simply have more resources to throw behind whoever we send out, which means our teams can handle jobs that would otherwise take entire guilds to pull off. We also have the advantage of being completely neutral to ICSO politics, which will definitely be a high selling point depending on the guild. Or the freelancing group.”

 

“I'll think about it,” said Xu, but her voice was on the accepting side of the neutral. Quistis wondered if Xu might try to cajole her into coming back if she ended up implementing her suggestion, but apparently Xu did not want to start that particular fight at the moment because she said, “So, talk to me about Shumi Village.”

 

“First let's get out of your office,” said Quistis, taking Xu's arm and pulling the older woman to her feet. “I have the feeling that if we don't have a change of scene, you're going pick up something to 'keep yourself focused'.”

 

“You know me too well,” said Xu with a rueful laugh.

 

“When was the last time you took any time for yourself?”

 

“Not since you left.” Abruptly Xu seemed to deflate and ironically looked much more like the self Quistis remembered growing up with and putting her trust in. “I want to get ice cream. And I want to go out shopping. And I wanna get laaaid—”

 

“Shh,” said Quistis, mindful of the open door but nevertheless giggling. Xu would eat her liver if she'd known the week Quistis had just had. “Well, I can't help with the 'laid' part, but let's do the other two things.”

 

“Not right now, you just came from the station,” said Xu with an airy wave. “We'll go to my room and chat for a while before we head out.”

 

“Good, because I brought you some Shumi tea and I want to see what you think of it.”

 

“Ha! Well, I'll never say no to presents.”

 

Not much had changed in Xu's room since she'd accepted the position of Headmaster. It was still clean and chic with weapons on the walls arranged like fine art, and she also had very big paintings that were pieces of fine art too. Having grown up very, very poor, Xu indulged herself in well-made and expensive pieces of furniture that were the height of style despite being no higher than one's knees, and as Quistis took a seat on the floor cushion by the beautiful rosewood coffee table, she noticed that Xu had changed the silk covers sometime since she'd left. Xu swapped out the long, fitted, and embellished coat of the Balamb Garden Headmaster uniform for a baggy tee and baggier pants. She was clearly done with anything having to do with work for the moment, which made Quistis smile. To have Xu's undivided attention was a rare treat.

 

They drank the smoky tea, which Xu all but cackled over once she saw that it came in a pressed cake like the type she'd grown up with, and Quistis spent the first hour talking about how Shumi Village behaved and looked. Xu seemed skeptical at the idea of a comfortable environment so far underground and asked pointed questions that were half-curious and half-strategizing, but since it wasn't likely that the Garden would invade Shumi Village any time soon, Quistis told Xu what she wanted to know. Eventually they got around to talking about blue magic, and here the conversation stopped flowing as easily as water.

 

“So what kinds of things are you learning?”

 

“How to control my powers better,” said Quistis, which was a neutral enough start. “Mostly how to use them without being on the verge of death.”

 

“Always handy,” said Xu in the same bright but neutral tone.

 

“I'm also...”

 

“Yes?”

 

Quistis fiddled with her teacup a little. Shape and size aside, the glaze was ironically rather similar to Elder Makine's, and noticing that made her feel a little braver as she said, “I'm also learning how to transform myself on purpose, rather than when I'm just angry.”

 

“Oh, thank God,” said Xu, and when Quistis looked at the older woman in surprise, Xu said, “I was half-afraid you'd be so scared of that you wouldn't want to work on it.”

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“Because I remember when you used to _hate_ that part of yourself, so sticking your head in the sand...” Xu shrugged and took a sip of her tea. “I wouldn't blame you.”

 

Quistis's lips thinned. “Xu, I was ten.”

 

“Ten to fifteen. It's only really been the last four years you've decided to embrace your magic.”

 

“Well, it's not like I have a choice. Besides, I like being a blue sage now.”

 

“Sage?”

 

“The term for when a blue mage transforms and comes back successfully.”

 

“So there's a chance you might not come back, then,” said Xu, her expression cooling.

 

“Yes, but it's small as long as I maintain my discipline,” said Quistis. “Norg has been—”

 

“Norg?!”

 

“You know him? Oh, wait... I suppose you would, since you're the Headmaster now.”

 

Xu grimaced. “I've known him before that. I met him for the first time when I was thirteen years old.”

 

“Why?” As far as Quistis knew, Xu didn't have any sort of blue magic. There would be no reason for Norg to train her.

 

“He came by because he wanted to know why Cid hadn't started churning out SeeDs already. When he saw _me,_ he grabbed me by the head and picked me up off the floor. 'How could something so small be worth anything?'”

 

Quistis winced. It sounded exactly like something Norg would do in a temper, and Quistis was quite familiar with his tempers by now. “What did you do?”

 

“I kicked him in the elbow and punched him in the stomach when he squealed,” said Xu matter-of-factly. “Since then, I've seen him exactly twice and he's just as much of a jackass as I remember, though he keeps his distance now. How do you know him?”

 

“Well... He's my blue magic combat instructor.”

 

“Oh _god._ What has he done?”

 

“Nothing too horrible, really. He throws water on me while I'm trying to concentrate. Or throws things at me.” Quistis laughed a little. “He basically tries to make me lose my temper, but he hasn't suceeded very much. He doesn't know enough about me to make me really angry.”

 

“Why is he trying to make you angry?”

 

“He wants to see if I can regain control if I ever lose it. But it seems unlikely that I will with this current track, so it sort of feels like a waste of time.”

 

Xu's entire expression tightened, but she didn't exactly look unhappy. When Quistis cocked her head, Xu said abruptly, “I've never told you what my limit break was, have I?”

 

Quistis laid her hand on her cheek, frowning. “No. Come to think of it, you haven't.”

 

“I'm a berserker.”

 

“Like the spell?”

 

“Worse.” Xu looked away, her expression turning bitter. “Instead of the usual adrenaline-fueled paranoia and focus, I go completely frothing mad and damn whoever's around me. When I was ten, robbers broke into my house and tried to take everything of value, which included all the kids under twelve. According to my mom, I literally pulled the robbers limb from limb and I was about to start on my family when she and Dai Go managed to herd me into a closet and barricade the door. They had to use chairs. It took me three days to come back, and only because I passed out from dehydration.”

 

“Xu...”

 

“When Cid found out what I could do, he started training me about how to lose control without actually losing control,” said Xu, her mouth twisting sourly. “Now I can't help but wonder if he and Norg ever swapped notes. If they did, well... I guess you're in good hands. The point is, don't _ever_ think you can't lose control, or that you just won't ever let it happen. _Know_ it's going to happen and prepare for it, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“You don't ever want to look back and realize you didn't try hard enough, okay?”

 

“Okay, Xu.”

 

“ _No wonder she was never afraid of my blue magic,”_ Quistis thought with mixed understanding and embarrassment. All her adolescent agonizing about the state of her humanity must have been unspeakably annoying to someone who had it far worse, because while Quistis sometimes changed shape, she never lost sight of herself.

 

“Is your crisis power why you came to the Garden?” Quistis had to ask.

 

“Part of it,” said Xu, her voice still somber. “Mostly we needed the money, but I think it was a relief for my family for me to be out of the house. Visiting once a year seems to be enough for all of us.”

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be sorry. They need to feel safe.” Xu drank her tea. “Anyway, SeeD suits me better. I like being around other people who're just as deadly as I am, plus very well equipped to take me down if I'm going to hurt people who don't deserve it.”

 

Quistis squirmed a little at that. Norg had told her that the end goal was to make her able to assume every shape that she had attained the skill of, which meant that in addition to silly things like Caterchipillars and Imps, she'd theoretically be able to become a Ruby Dragon and a Behemoth. And if she lost control while being one of those, then there would be only one course of action for the people she cared about to be safe.

“So, can I assume you can change your shape on purpose now?” Xu asked, making Quistis squirm a little more.

 

“Ye-e-e-es...”

 

“Can I see? I only got a flicker of it in Dollet...”

 

Quistis hesitated, but considering she'd been flipflopping back and forth just a few hours ago, she thought there was no reason to hold back. “Don't be frightened,” she said, stepping back from the table. “And I'll still understand everything you say, but I won't be able to respond.”

 

Xu nodded. After making sure Xu was alert and attentive, Quistis exhaled and let herself flow into her leopard shape. Since she didn't want to alarm Xu, Quistis changed slowly, concentrating first on fur and then on sliding her ears up to distract from the rearrangement of her limbs. In about ten seconds, she was sitting upright in the leopard's manner, her tail very still but bushed all the way out. Stupid tail. It was so much easier to hide her emotions in her huma body.

 

“Oh, wow,” said Xu, eyes wide. “You're _gorgeous.”_

 

Quistis blinked. The beast part of herself had come forward just enough to accept the compliment as truth, so rather than blush or deflect, she simply settled into a more relaxed posture and crossed her front paws at the ankle.

 

“Can I touch your fur?” Xu asked, eyes shining. Belatedly Quistis remembered Xu had always loved cats, and only the fear she might someday die and leave behind an animal stopped her from getting one. So Quistis inclined her head and Xu came over, moving slowly and non-threateningly. After a moment of hesitation, she touched Quistis on the shoulder; a neutral place for both woman and leopard. Almost immediately Xu started giggling in delight.

 

“You are so _soft,”_ Xu said, her hand and voice trembling with excitement. “You are like a chinchilla. I could pet you all day.”

 

“ _Please don't,”_ thought Quistis with mixed amusement and dismay. It translated to leaning slightly away from Xu, and fortunately Xu understood and leaned back. When Quistis turned back into herself, Xu sighed in pure envy and longing, and the melancholy look on her face was enough to banish every doubt Quistis had ever had about her old friend ever being afraid of her new abilities.

 

Eventually when they felt peckish, they went down to the garage and checked out a car to have lunch in Balamb Town. By the time they arrived, the sun had warmed Balamb into one of those amazing October days with brilliant sunshine and breezes that were just ever so crisp and cool, and the tourists were out in force. Being in civilian clothing, Quistis and Xu blended into the crowd with only the locals realizing who they were, and they ate down on the docks from one of the many floating cafes just like they had when Quistis had been ten and Xu had first taken her under their wing. After eating themselves almost sick on fried conch and fresh coconut water, it was time to go shopping.

 

“I need a new swimsuit,” said Xu.

 

“You buy a new one every year,” said Quistis, shaking her head. “And then wear it maybe once or twice.”

 

“Hush, child,” said Xu, nevertheless smirking. “It's _my_ disposable income, I'll do what I like. We can't all be happy in Garden reg, you know.”

 

Quistis chuckled. It was an old argument between them. Still, the wheels did start to turn in Quistis's head. Seifer had made some mention of taking her out sailing when she came to visit him in FH, which meant she'd need a civilian swimsuit since the Garden ones were rather noticeable. It also meant she would need time off and as they went to Olena's to look at swimsuits, Quistis realized she needed to talk to Xu about the time in question.

 

“Xu...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Umm... Would you mind terribly if I did something different for New Year?”

 

Xu looked at her sharply, one hand on the swimsuit rack and the other full of suit separates.

 

“Different how?” Xu asked, her voice flat with surprise.

 

“Um... I got an invitation to, umm... Try something new...”

 

“Qu, you've been coming with me for eight years.”

 

“I know,” said Quistis, looking down at the ground. “But you didn't think I'd do that forever, did you?”

 

“Of course not,” said Xu, but Quistis could hear the hurt in her voice. “I just thought... What do you mean, an invitation?”

 

“ _I hate lying to Xu,”_ thought Quistis, her innards squirming at the very idea. Xu was like a combination of mentor, older sister, and mother, and to Quistis, all three of those roles should never be lied to. But what Xu didn't know couldn't hurt her, and if the worst happened and Quistis and Seifer were discovered, she could say with perfect security that she had no idea what was happening. Nevertheless Xu deserved an answer.

 

“Did you meet somebody?”

 

Quistis nearly jumped out of her skin. When she looked at Xu sharply, the older woman said, “I'm not going to be angry if you did. It'd certainly explain why you'd want a break with tradition.”

 

“Well... Yes,” said Quistis reluctantly. It was the truth, after all.

 

Xu's eyes widened, but not in a shocked kind of way. It looked like she was going to bite something and considering what she'd said about her limits breaking earlier, Quistis realized that possibility was closer than she'd ever thought.

 

"Who?"

 

"Does it matter?"

 

"Considering... People you've known," said Xu in a soft but tight voice. "One has to wonder. Is there some reason you don't want me to know about him?”

 

Quistis nearly scowled and squirmed at the same time, and couldn't help but wonder if Xu would be putting her under the same scrutiny if Xu thought she was seeing a non-Seifer entity. And while Quistis didn't want to lie, it was an unfortunate truth that she had no idea how Xu would react in this situation. So... Obfuscation. Besides, they were still in public and a truly honest conversation could have devastating effects.

 

"He's an unbonded freelancer and I knew you wouldn't approve," said Quistis. She hoped the usual contempt for dirty mercs would make Xu immediately back off, and she did - sort of. Xu immediately reared back, eyes wide and face freezing on the edge of a rictus of disgust. It would have been funny under most other circumstances, but the shock was eminently understandable. It would be a scandal in certain circles if word ever got out that the near top and the undisputed bottom of the combat specialist world had a thing going on, which would translate to extremely understandable silence on Quistis's part. Snobs with the potential to become real troublemakers abounded in every profession, and in the bloody business sometimes discretion was the key to survival.

 

"Ugh - I mean, uh, why?"

 

"Because I like him."

 

"Yeah, but _why?"_

 

Quistis smiled. This part she could talk about with no problems. "He's charming. Intelligent. Never boring. And... He's not frightened of my blue magic, so that's nice too."

 

"Does he know who you are? I know you've been traveling under an alias part of the time."

 

"He knows."

 

"He could be into you for the celebrity."

 

Quistis laughed at the idea of Seifer as a trophy boyfriend. He'd look the part, but when it came down to acting it... Well. "I don't think so."

 

"You never know," said Xu, her voice a mixture of big-sister warning and SeeD caution. She cocked her head, some of her suspicion seeming to ease away. "Sooo what's his name?"

 

"I'm not telling you that."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because then you'll try to look him up and... I don't want you to scare him off."

 

Xu looked surprised again. "Scare him off? You like him that much?"

 

"I do."

 

"Hmm. When did you meet?"

 

"I'm not telling you that either."

 

"See, now you're just being suspicious."

 

"Or maybe I want to keep certain details to myself until I'm sure it's a real thing," Quistis retorted, remembering her gambit back in Deling City. "Xu, I want to make some decisions for myself. Ever since I came to the Garden, everything I've done has been influenced by you in some way, and I don't want that to happen with dating. I need to find out who I am without you, even if that makes making decisions you don't agree with."

 

Xu said nothing for a long while, though her hard stare spoke volumes. But finally she sighed a long, slow sigh of understanding and went back to looking at swimsuits. Quistis breathed a silent sigh of relief.

 

“His cock must be a foot long,” Xu muttered out of nowhere, startling Quistis into laughing so loudly that everyone in the store looked at them. At the sound of her laughter, Xu looked at her sidelong with a slow smile and then bumped Quistis with her shoulder.

 

“You know, it hasn't escaped me that you've been eyeing the swimsuits too,” said Xu, making Quistis laugh a little. “Are we going to try one on? Finally? Finally? After years and years of saying 'Garden reg is just fine'? Hehehe...”

 

“You're just as bad as Selphie and Rinoa,” Quistis scolded lightly.

 

“I am fundamentally young at heart,” said Xu, holding out a top and eyeballing Quistis's size. As she threw a bikini top into Quistis's arms, the black-haired headmaster said, “And very interested to see what you pick out, since 'wetsuit' is not an option.”

 

“Don't tempt me,” Quistis said challengingly, putting the tiny triangle top back onto the rack.

 

“Fine,” sighed Xu. “Just please wear something that shows a bit of skin. You are too young to dress like an old mother. And also nothing black.”

 

“What's wrong with black?” asked Quistis, thinking of how black was supposed to go with everything.

 

“Number one, you wear it all the time. Number two, you're already pale and it makes you look paler. Number three, there is a limited window of time in which you can wear utterly bizarre combinations of colors and look good in them. Case in point, this thing,” said Xu, pulling out a rectangular garment that was either a very well-defined strapless top or some sort of swimsuit bottom that really wanted to emphasize each buttock. “Look at it, Qu. It's purple and orange and yellow. It's amazing. And I would look absolutely stupid in it, but it would be awesome on you. Try it on.”

 

“No.”

 

“For me?” Xu waggled her eyebrows. “Laughing is good for my health.”

 

“Oh, fine,” said Quistis, taking the monstrosity. It turned out to be bottoms, so Quistis found the matching top and some other coordinating garments. Xu kept handing her more things until Quistis just gave up and let Xu pick out things for her. In a way it was a relief, because Quistis balked at basically everything and would have resigned herself to Garden reg if not for the necessity of disguise.

 

...And possibly seeing Seifer go wide-eyed and silent again, like he had at the SeeD Ball when she'd been wearing a gold dress of Xu's selection. Quistis _loved_ when he looked so utterly stunned.

 

“ _Well, maybe one of these will do the trick... Though if Seifer has his way, they won't stay on for long...”_

 

When Xu asked why she was blushing, Quistis relayed her thought with a little laugh and Xu just grinned.

 

“Ah-hah,” said Xu, making Quistis's blush intensify. “So the question is, do you want to make it easy on him? Or make him have to work for it?”

 

“...Work for it.”

 

“Good girl,” said Xu, grinning. “Let us off to the one-pieces.”

 

“The one-pieces?” said Quistis, thinking of her regulation swimsuit.

 

“I see that look and I raise you a _this,”_ said Xu, grabbing something that looked like it was made of white lace and holding it up for Quistis's inspection. “Observe the string halter ties, which when combined with wet square knots are the bane of overeager boyfriends everywhere. Try it on.”

 

“Add it to the pile,” said Quistis, amused.

 

In the end Quistis left with two swimsuits, which Xu told her was essential because she could wear one while the other was drying. She also left with a soft, light sarong that felt like silk and was pretty enough to double as a dress, and that was all that Quistis bought for the day. Xu bought more. A lot more. In fact, she bought something from every store they went into and Quistis found herself wondering if her older friend actually needed what she was picking up or was just shopping for the pleasure of object acquisition. Xu did that when she was stressed, which was why she had a closet full of dresses she hardly ever wore and shoes that were basically overflowing out of their storage area.

 

Nevertheless the two women drove back to the Garden with a feeling of accomplishment and even arrived early enough in the day that they were both able to clean up several of the simpler tasks that required their personal attention. And in the evening, Quistis sent an email to the encrypted address Seifer had given her. He hadn't contacted her since the deaths on the plains, but Quistis figured no news was good news and perhaps he didn't have access to a Net terminal. She sent the email anyway with a shiver of nervousness; this was very different from a formal communication or even a reply to a friend.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

From: Scarlet

 

Went shopping with X today. What do you think?

 

/\

 

And she attached two pictures of the swimsuits lying flat on her bed.

 

“ _I'm going to laugh if this gets an instant response,”_ thought Quistis, amused as she hit 'send' and waited. But no notification popped up and eventually Quistis went to sleep, feeling equal parts embarrassed and amused at this new part of her secret romantic life.

 

/\/\/\

 

To: Scarlet

cc: Nami, Nagi

 

From: Zero

 

Finally got to a computer. Been lying low since 3XK and have been taking odd jobs in the boonies. I never want to see the inside of another hay barn again, though some of the kitchens I slept in weren't half bad. But if I smell like chocobo and burned potatoes when I see you in a while, that's why.

 

Also, the swimsuits are nice. I like them both. A lot. Can't wait to see you in them and then out of them.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

cc: Scarlet, Nagi

 

From: Nami

 

I'm allergic to chocobo. You go through full decontamination or my blood is on your hands.

 

Threw Micah overboard today when he tried to kiss me on the deck. He got all pissy about it of course, but the kidlings are my faithful minions and drowned him out with chants of NO MEANS NO until C&M showed up to find out what happened. C gave him a talking to while M gave me a hug and an apology. Better late than never.

 

Hi Scarlet :) And Zero, turn down the heterosex in the group chats, okay? Okay.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

cc.: Nami, Scarlet

 

From: Nagi

 

Please please **please** tell me there's video of the kidlings doing the chant. PLEASE. I need some good news. Poltag has been telling everyone at work I'm easy since I kicked him to the curb. Nobody believes him but he just does not shut up and it's making me hate going in. I am _this_ close to blowing up his lab but everyone will know it was me.

 

Hi Scarlet ::waves:: Hope your training stuff is going good. Unless you're on a mission or something, then I hope that's going good too.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

cc: Nami, Nagi

 

From: Scarlet

 

Hello Nami and Nagi. I hope you are both doing very well and I am looking forward to seeing you again. Training is indeed going well, though I could do with a teacher that is a bit more patient and a bit less vulgar. I used to think the 'bujuru' and 'fushuru' noises he made were signs of imminent choking, but I have recently learned they are curse words. Charming.

 

To Zero: they make these things called showers. I have also heard of this thing called soap. I hear they get rid of smells like chocobo and burned potatoes. Maybe if you manage to locate these mystical objects somehow...

 

And I know this may be a little frivolous, but are we doing gifts for New Year?

 

/\

 

To: Scarlet

cc: Nagi, Nami

 

From: Zero

 

The three of us have always done gifts, but never stuff we have to buy. I'm sticking to that. A little piece of normal would be nice with everything that's been going on. Don't worry about it too much.

 

Re: Poltag: The Posse rides again. Let's take some names.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Lots of little tweaks to this chapter.

 

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	28. Chapter 28

The ride back to Shumi Village was particularly unpleasant after a lovely ten-day vacation, but neither Quistis nor Norg had any difficulties getting back into the swing of training. With only a few more weeks until Quistis planned to meet Seifer again, she wanted to make the most of the training time lest her interrupted schedule irritate Norg to the point of cutting off instruction. Norg seemed to appreciate her focus as much as he showed appreciation for anything, which meant he bellowed less and talked more.

 

“Good,” was all he said when Quistis managed to shift into a Blitz and back again; the transformation left her with painless spasms and little flares of static over her skin, but had otherwise gone well. “Now do it again more quickly. The ideal is to have this shape come to you as easily as your first.”

 

“I'd rather assume a more useful shape.”

 

“Useful!” Norg barked in amusement, making a ripple wobble down his massive stomach. “You have your lineage shape, the GIM52A , and now the Blitz. What _useful_ shape do you desire?”

 

“Well, I wouldn't mind being able to fly. A Ruby Dragon would be nice.”

 

Norg stroked his dewlap thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing to pinpoints in his doughy face. “Normally I would forbid such a new student from trying this thing,” he said finally. “Taking on a shape with dramatically different mass is incredibly difficult, and if frustration does not dissuade the learner, the Ruby Dragon's urge to rampage often will.”

 

“I thought you could handle an out-of-control sage,” said Quistis lightly. Norg's eyes nearly disappeared in the folds of his suddenly inscrutable expression, but at last he harrumphed and by now, Quistis knew that was his noise for assent.

 

“Fine, then,” he said, steepling his hands and eyeing her with a certain intensity of focus she hadn't seen before. “You have the skill of Fire Breath, which gives you some idea of what you must be. Furthermore, you are an experienced summoner of Guardian Forces, which means you have much practice in augmenting your flesh with pure magic—not of para-magic, but the forces of elemental power that give rise to Guardian Forces in the first place. You will combine these things to absorb the unbound magical power in the air and essentially create a new body for your consciousness to inhabit, one with a much larger volume and a totally different anatomical structure than your own.”

 

“That does sound complicated,” Quistis admitted. “How am I supposed to de-transform after that?”

 

“By releasing the bonds you will create to arrange the shape in the first place.”

 

“So... Essentially, I stop thinking 'I'm a dragon'?”

 

“If you can. The trigger for the transformation is still stress, and the Ruby Dragon is easiest to assume when you are most dragon-like. Therefore, anger, rage, and possessive territorality will be your guides. Combining those with the Ruby Dragon's natural self will be powerful and likely overwhelming. Should you be lost, well...”

 

Norg cracked all forty of his knuckles in a vaguely ominous way, and his usually stiff hands seemed to bend to proper flexibility for the first time in years.

 

“Let us begin,” he rumbled. “As the Ruby Dragon is a hexaped, the first thing you must learn to do is grow an additional pair of limbs. Start now.”

 

Quistis had guessed correctly in assuming the work would be hard, and while the experience of turning into the humanoid Blitz helped, keeping the shape of a Ruby Dragon in her head while trying to forge an emotional connection that would not bowl her over _and_ trying to grasp powers she'd never consciously used before was a lot. She had always known in an academic kind of way that there was magical power all around, but draw points and Guardian Forces were concrete accumulations that Quistis could understand. What Norg was talking about was more like the primal sources that sorceresses had access to and while the idea of tapping into that was mindboggling enough, merely sensing the energy was the essence of frustration. Norg's insistence that she simply _do_ it was also the opposite of helpful.

 

At least the irritation told Quistis this journey wasn't going to be all play, and in an odd way that made her feel better. It was always more worthwhile to master something that was actually difficult and she was not accustomed to gathering power without a certain amount of pain anyway. In the case of this transformation, she lost count of the times her shoulderblades cracked and popped to accommodate the wing sockets of the Ruby Dragon, though the wings themselves did not always manifest. Quistis was glad that she could not see her back for that part, because sometimes red or clear liquid spilled down over her shoulders and what that implied about her back was horrifying. At least there was no pain; apparently nerves were the last thing to grow or activate.

 

“Enough,” said Norg after one attempt had Quistis nearly throwing up from the sensation of her bones sucking in and out of her body like sticks trapped in tar. “You are exhausted. We will resume tomorrow.”

 

Quistis shook her head, though she had to close her eyes to keep from getting too dizzy with the motion. “I'm fine. I just need a minute to breathe.”

 

“No.”

 

“I'm _fine,_ Norg. I know my limits. I pushed far harder than this when I was learning to summon GF's.”

 

“Those were Guardian Forces, who could only refuse to come. _This_ is advanced blue magic, which will not only come but will take you over and destroy you from within.” 

 

Quistis tried not to roll her eyes. Nearly every training session with Norg contained some variant of this sentiment, and while she appreciated the warning, it was getting a little old.

 

“There is no rush to learn so quickly,” said Norg, sounding as calm as he ever did. “Unless you have a deadline, Quistis Trepe?”

 

She couldn't help but laugh and when Norg looked at her suspiciously, she said, “I just want to make progress before I leave again.”

 

“You have three months.”

 

“Actually, I wanted to visit someone for New Year, so it's more like one month until I leave.”

 

“You are planning to return after your trip, are you not?” Norg pressed, and when Quistis nodded, he said, “Then you have three months. Calm yourself.”

 

Quistis huffed but decided to let the subject drop. Norg did have a point: there was no reason why she had to learn how to do  _ everything _ right away, except... 

 

Quistis did not want to admit it, but she was anxious. The more she could learn to do in the Village, supervised by someone who knew what to expect, the better she would be on her own. For years she had thought her training with Myanna had been far too short, but there just hadn't been much opportunity from the one mission they'd had together and the sporadic letters afterward. If they'd trained together longer, would Myanna have told her about the transformation? Would she have helped Quistis attain hers faster or maybe cautioned her against it?

 

On the other hand, what might have she have told Quistis about Terra and 'moon people'? The fanciful pieces of wishtory that Quistis had found in the Grand Library made her uncomfortable not because they were so illogical, but because they were exactly the kind of mysterious and seductive thing that someone without guidance might find irresistible. If entire families believed such things and told all 'lost' childen the same thing, then there would be serious problems.

 

“ _If I hear of any sort of blue mage uprising, I'll know why...”_

 

She took comfort in the fact that historically there had been no such thing despite a certain number of recorded Luanr Cries. She hoped her worry was for naught. Still, Quistis wondered if she should be telling any of her friends what she was learning. They wouldn't understand everything, but a possible threat was something they could at least be aware of.

 

The passing days did not ease her anxiety as the Red Dragon transformation continued to elude her, and even worse, the more Quistis got annoyed by her lack of progress, the harder it became to transform into any draconian shape at all. Perhaps most irritating, Norg kept calling for frequent stops and insisting she was on the verge of 'rampaging', though he had no useful advice for that aside from “Calm yourself. Breathe. We will resume tomorrow.”. It was so aggravating that Quistis found herself skimming Scholar's records and occasionally losing focus during Makine's lessons, she was  _ that  _ agitated by her lack of concrete progress. And what the hell did 'rampaging' mean anyway?!

 

After about a month of no progress, Quistis decided it was time for drastic measures. Norg had seemed surprised at how quickly she'd mastered the Blitz and the GIM52A, but part of the reason why she'd been able to transform so fast was that she practiced at night too. She  _ did  _ know her limits, rest be damned, and she knew what the particular exhaustion of trying to master the Ruby Dragon was like. One day after a burst of failed transformations had resulted in several dislocated ribs (which Norg put back in place by flicking her hard in the back; apparently this was not an unusual injury for sages attempting a hexaped shape), Quistis went to rest without arguing with Nogr any further, ate a light meal so she wouldn't get any more nauseous than usual, and went back to the lakeside to practice. For the Blitz and the GIM52A, she'd been able to train in her little house, but the unpredictable size of her attempted wings would likely exceed the height of the ceiling and Quistis did not want to break anything her generous hosts gave her.

 

“ _Now what to use for an emotional anchor? Possessiveness, territorality, anger, frustration, rage... I've gone through all of these emotions and I can't find anything that lasts long enough to tie all the forces together. I need something else, something that's just as powerful but still draconian and most importantly, something I can sustain without thinking too hard and losing hold of the transformation... But what? If only I could I_ feel _more, but I don't want to lose total control... I just want to_ do _this already!_ _The skill is already mine, so the transformation should be too!”_

 

Something about that train of thought seemed right, and after puzzling over it for a while, Quistis decided to try feeling entitled and greedy. After all, possessive territorality could be construed as a kind of greed, and it would be natural to be angry and furious if one's prized possession was taken away. With that in mind, Quistis sat down and started thinking herself into that state. It was not exactly hard after a month of essentially practicing getting herself worked up, but it felt ever so slightly unnatural. SeeDs were team players and were not supposed to be greedy at all. And thinking that one was entitled to anything—an object, a person, even life itself—was setting oneself up for bitter disappointment. In the past when Quistis had felt either of these things, she had talked herself out of them in order to live without weeping over all the things that she wanted, like a home and a loving family and a secure future with the people she wanted in it.

 

“ _Why shouldn't I have those things, anyway? Why can't I be as smart and strong as I am, as powerful, and_ also _happy? It's not a matter of fairness at this point. It's a matter of possibility, and it is possible for me to have all those things. I will have all those things! And I'll have them now, or else...”_

 

Just the idea that something or somebody might try to steal her hard-earned happiness made Quistis grit her teeth and the now-familiar sensation of her blood and bones heating up came quick and easy. When she breathed in, a smell like burned hair and charcoal seemed to roil up her nose like she was drawing air through a long, draconian muzzle. A very familiar itching in the middle of her back made Quistis roll her shoulders as her shoulderblades lengthened and thickened under her skin, scraping over her ribs as her bones resettled. She did not let herself be pleased by how quickly the transformation was coming, even if it was taking less than a minute now: the trick was not only growing another set of limbs, but  _ expanding. _ And oddly enough, greed helped here too. 

 

“ _My space. This is_ all _my space. All my body, all_ mine,” Quistis chanted to herself, visualizing the currents of power that she had just started to become aware of now gravitating towards her. Scholar's notes about the Terrans using music to concentrate had been helpful here, and while Quistis still didn't think she could sing worth a damn, humming seemed to help focus her thoughts in ways that were conducive to blue magic. Low, atonal humming sent buzzing down Quistis's throat and then seemingly through her bones and skin, and Quistis half-thought she could feel her limbs stretching and expanding. She risked a glance at her arms and thought her skin looked just a bit redder, and her forearms were definitely longer than they had been before. 

 

In the mid-reaches of Shumi Village, Norg was settling down to sleep when a low droning noise tickled his earholes. It was felt more than heard, but even that amount was enough to make the elder Shumi scowl and then reach for his gauntlets, which were more accurately rings that connected to a power cell that encircled his forearms. Quistis Trepe had been doing so well during her training and been so focused that he had not thought he would need these for some time, but now the secret of her success was clear. He should have known someone so focused, especially one of his SeeDs, would push as hard as possible in search of excellence.

 

“ _Reckless thing,”_ he grumped to himself as he left his warm, cozy home and started walking swiftly down the path to the lakeside. _“Of_ course _she would have to make progress when I am not around to supervise! At least she had the forethought to remove herself from the main village.”_

 

When Norg got to the wooded cove where he and Quistis Trepe practiced, the sight of her almost complete transformation nearly overcame his annoyance with her risk-taking behavior. Only a sorceress could have appreciated the sight of all the ambient power gathering around Quistis Trepe like iron filings around a magnetic pole, but as a Shumi Norg was aware of the power as a heaviness in the air. The closer Norg got to Quistis Trepe, the more the air seemed to become unbreathably solid, and she appeared to be in a daze as the ghostly shape of a Ruby Dragon shimmered around her body. A small Ruby Dragon, admittedly, probably half the size of a normal one, but Norg grudgingly noted that every detail seemed perfect. Some blue sages went for size first, but Quistis Trepe went for structure. Did she intuit that size could come later, with ease of practice? But then Norg looked at Quistis Trepe's face and realized she wasn't thinking much of anything at all. She was deep in a transformation fugue and likely aware of only her own self, which depending on how her mind was could be dangerous indeed... So Norg charged his gauntlets and sat down to see what would happen.

 

“ _Mine, mine, mine...”_ Went through Quistis's head, thrumming louder than the sound of her own heartbeat, when a flicker tugged her focus. Like a snarl in otherwise smooth fabric, her attention went to it immediately and Quistis turned, sudden wrath flooding her vision. A white blob with bars of black and gleaming blue sat on the lakeside shore, staring at her with an insolence that was deeply and utterly infuriating. 

 

“ _What is_ that? _Why is it in MY space?!”_

 

“Go away!” She shouted, both furious and suddenly afraid; she was still struggling to transform and if something bad happened, she did not want to hurt anyone by accident. Occasionally when she lost control of this particular shape, flames would explode uncontrollably from her mouth.

 

“ _And the rampage begins,”_ thought Norg as Quistis shrieked unintelligibly at him. Inside the foggy dragon shape, Quistis dropped to all fours and hissed, her translucent tail lashing angrily. Critically Norg noted it was just a bit too long for a Ruby Dragon and a bit too sinuous as well. Meanwhile the charging orbs on his gauntlets turned from blue to yellow.

 

The subtle flicker of color seemed to trip a switch in Quistis's brain. The intruder was  _ not  _ going away, and the continued intrustion into her space triggered a rage that would have dismayed her if she was totally herself. The concern she had for the bystander's safety warped and then cracked in front of the territorial fury that now boiled through her veins, remaining only as shards that pricked her conscience as she sprang forward, flames spilling from her mouth. 

 

“ _Get out get out get out get out of MY space, get out or I'll hurt you, get out—”_

 

Norg sighed, stood up, and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since he had dealt with a rampage, but the mechanics were basically the same. Frankly he was surprised that it had taken Quistis Trepe this long to lose sight of herself; the sages he had trained in the past usually hit this point in the first week. Norg wondered if dispelling this development would consequently be more difficult as he cracked his knuckles and noted the orbs on his gauntlets finally turning red.

 

She noted the prey was leaving its huge, soft belly unprotected and lunged for that massive target, claws and fangs aching with the anticipation of blood and torn flesh. The prey did not move; instead it raised its overlong front limbs, huge shovel-shaped hands going above its tiny head. A flicker of motion was all the warning she got before the definition of the word IMPACT hit her squarely on top of the skull, the numb shock followed up almost instantly by a thick layer of ice that froze everything from her head to her upper arms into a rictus of astonishment. The pain she  _ did  _ feel came from biting down on her tongue, and the searing jolt of agony that traveled through her mouth and directly into her brain was as hot as the ice was freezing. Breathless with surprise, Quistis stumbled and fell on the ground, and she became vaguely aware of the coldness around her head ebbing away as her tongue started throbbing with high and resentful pain. Around her, the semisolid shape of the Ruby Dragon puffed away like a breath of smoke. 

 

“ _I haven't bitten my tongue since basic training!”_ thought Quistis with a certain horror. Little nips during mealtimes did not count in her mind: those happened to everyone. Back when Quistis had been less controlled, she had gotten a little too worked up during close-quarters combat training and Xu had knocked her out with an uppercut that had nearly made Quistis bite the tip of her tongue off. This injury was worse. Quistis could only pant and lean forward as blood spilled out of her mouth like wine, and with the body awareness that only highly trained SeeDs had, she realized she had nearly bitten her tongue in half. Damn! Fortunately, she was not a cadet anymore, with no para-magic and no skills. As she sat back on her heels, Quistis took a deep breath and tried to pull up a White Wind to heal herself.

 

“Stop,” rumbled Norg, and Quistis lifted her head to see him stepping around a weird lump of ice. “Too much magic for you.”

 

“My—”

 

“Yes, yes.” He patted around his sash and pulled out something that looked like a patch of leaves. Without fanfare he stuck it in her mouth and Quistis instantly felt all the moisture in her mouth vanish. It would have been painful considering her lacerated tongue, but a numbness spread out from the leaves almost immediately and an incredibly pungent medicinal scent filled her sinuses, distracting her from all else. Quistis started sneezing uncontrollably.

 

“There,” said Norg with finality once the sneezing stopped. “Now you will not bleed to death. Follow me.”

 

“Where—”

 

“SILENCE. You have done enough tonight.”

 

Despite his wording, Norg's tone wasn't exactly angry or disappointed. Actually, she thought he sounded rather proud.

 

Norg walked and Quistis followed. She was tired in a way that usually took several hours of regular training to obtain, and was thus barely aware of her surroundings except as flickers of light in her peripheral vision. Extensive training in her childhood kept her moving despite her exhaustion, though by the time the ground subtly leveled out and indicated they were moving toward a structure instead of just upward, Quistis was ready to fall down and sleep.

 

There was a hiss of a pneumatic door and a brightening, and Quistis slowly realized she was in a house. Norg moved ahead of her and started fussing with something her eyes didn't quite focus on, and somehow she couldn't bring herself to care about what he was doing. Lassitude thickened her limbs and abruptly Quistis found herself sitting on the floor. The sudden drop and stop jarred the numbness from her mouth and Quistis groaned a little as pain started throbbing through her tongue with every heartbeat.

 

“Spit,” said Norg, and when she cracked open her eyes Quistis saw him holding a cup in front of her mouth. Obviously it was for the leaves. When she opend her mouth, she mentally prepared herself for a nasty plop of something wet with blood and spit, but to her surprise clear saliva all but fountained from her mouth like she hadn't swallowed in an hour, interspersed with things that looked more like bay leaves rather than bloody sponges. As soon as the air touched her tongue, the pain shot up several magnitudes until it was actually distracting, but Norg handed her a potion in a battle-ready tearoff pouch and Quistis took it gratefully. Her tongue refused to move in a way that would facilitate swallowing, so Quistis took a mouthful of the burning elixir and held it for as long as she could stand. By the time she reached the spit out/choke down threshold, the sharp throbbing in her tongue had turned to a dull ache, and when she spat out the potion, she felt almost normal.

 

“No practice until I say otherwise.”

 

Quistis stared at Norg, who folded his long arms and looked down at her from his full height.

 

“Just for losing control?” She asked, stunned.

 

“Fushururu, of _course_ for losing control! And for secrecy. And for the potential danger to the village of that particular shape, or did you think everyone could be evacuated with haste in the main lift?”

 

“I thought you said you could—”

 

“ONLY-WHEN-I-CAN-SEE-WHAT-YOU-ARE-DOING-AND-IF-I-AM-NEAR-ENOUGH,” Norg bellowed, swelling like overyeasted dough with sudden fury. Even exposed as she was to his rather frequent shouting, the effect of Norg's voice inside a tight space made Quistis's head ring and her healed tongue start to throb again.

 

“The ones you did not burn would have suffocated to death as your flames ate all the oxygen,” Norg shouted, gesturing with an angry flare of one hand. “Did I not tell you how dangerous this bujururu shape was?”

 

“Yes, you did.”

 

“And still you practiced in secret, without supervision!”

 

“I did.”

 

Norg looked at her suspiciously. “No defense? No excuse?”

 

Quistis shook her head. She was still tired and that was perhaps the only reason she wasn't more upset. “There's no point. You're not wrong and I didn't think this through.”

 

Norg huffed, but again he did not seem displeased. When he refolded his arms, Quistis took it as a good sign.

 

“You are displeased about the restriction, are you not?”

 

“I am, but I know why it's necessary.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Quistis nodded. She had a fair idea of how Norg's mind worked by now, and while he was rude and abrasive and very short-tempered, he did not do things without reason. “You want to see if I can maintain control in human shape too. If I can be patient even when a goal is in reach, no matter how close it may seem.”

 

Norg let out a long, deep HMMMM that vibrated the air and the ground Quistis sat on. Again, he sounded impressed.

 

“There is also a danger,” he said, sounding almost conversational now. “The more you change your shape, the more difficult it becomes to stay in your original human one. You must have time to reaffirm your true self before the seduction of other bodies pulls you away. And no illicit practice while out in the world either, fushururu. Unless you wish to be discovered in a halfway shape by humans who know nothing?”

 

Quistis shook her head, chill settling in her veins. Norg finally seemed to notice she was exhausted, but characteristically said nothing about it. Instead he picked up something from a counter behind him and held it out to her, and it took Quistis a moment to register that it was a plate.

 

“You are not a baby bird,” he said, and Quistis took that as her cue to take the plate from him. It was a human-sized plate that was just barely visible under translucently thin slices of some sort of dark red meat, and though Quistis's sinuses were still buzzing from the pungent smells of the leaves and potion, she thought she detected the faintly acrid scent of monster flesh. She looked at Norg questioningly.

 

“You are a blue sage,” he said, correctly interpreting her look. “You have special nutritional requirements. Eat as much as you can stand, and then one piece more.”

 

Quistis looked back at the plate. Raw meat in any form was unappetizing, reminding Quistis too much of the damage she could do with her whip, but she _was_ tired and the longer she looked at the plate, the more she realized she was hungry too. So Quistis listlessly picked up a millimeter-thin slice of meat between her thumb and index finger and put it in her mouth.

 

She expected to taste nothing but instead a warm silkiness settled on her tongue and then melted like rich chocolate, filling her mouth and nose with a complex aroma that made her eyes widen in surprise. There was a sweet softness to the meat like it had been soaked in fruit juice, as well as a delicious fattiness that instantly put Quistis in mind of filet mignon or even more indulgent, foie gras. Instantly more alert, Quistis ate another piece and then another, and in a surprisingly short time all of it was gone and Quistis was licking her fingertips for more of the rich taste. Norg looked at her, nodded, and then took the plate away.

 

“What was that?” Quistis asked, now watching as Norg took the plate back to the counter, swiped it with a cloth, and then put it into what looked like a standing freezer.

 

“Fastitocalon-F meat.”

 

“I've tried monster meat before. It's never tasted like that.”

 

Norg scoffed. “Did you think your taste buds were the same as they'd been before?”

 

“I suppose not. I know my sense of smell has been more acute—”

 

“There you have it. Now go. I wish to sleep and you must rest.”

 

Quistis got up. She felt energetic now, but it was the slightly hollow and manic buzz of a caffeine supplement, and she knew by the time she got back to her little house that she would be very, very tired. Before she left, she bowed her head to Norg.

 

“Thank you for stopping me. And taking care of me.”

 

“You are... A good student,” said Norg slowly, the words clearly unfamiliar, and then as if embarrassed by his acknowledgment, all but chased her out of the house by flapping his huge hands at her. Quistis laughed softly as she left.

 

Her energy wasn't the only thing that faded by the time Quistis got to her little house. Her fatigue-driven acceptance and patience were gone too, uncovering an irritation that was unchanged by her near-failure. She would obey the rule not to practice, but how long was Norg planning not to train her? She had one week until she was planning to leave the Village for Fisherman's Horizon, and after that there would be an additional two weeks of further inactivity. Three whole weeks of doing nothing after months of hard practice felt like cutting off her progress at the legs, especially considering what she'd almost accomplished—

 

And what she had almost lost.

 

“ _I nearly did what I was most afraid of. And while it wasn't bad this time, Norg was right, it could have been much worse. What if I had hurt people? What if I'd gotten stuck? I_ know _I should slow down, if nothing else to check my work, but at the same time it's not like I was doing badly! If he hadn't shown up on the lake shore, I would have been just fine...”_

 

A voice in her head that sounded very much like Xu pointed out the obvious, however. _“If someone you don't like merely being around is enough to throw you off, you're not anything close to fine.”_

 

“ _So I should practice more, with more irritation—”_

 

“ _Working a fatigued muscle makes it fail, and this particular one is underdeveloped and overworked. You know you're going to feel like rubber tomorrow and probably for a few days after.”_

 

“ _But I don't want to do_ nothing—”

 

“ _You're not doing nothing. You're doing rest. Besides, didn't Norg say something about 'reaffirming how nice it was to be human' or something like that?”_ The voice turned sly, now sounding very much like Xu indeed. _“What better way than letting loose on vacation?After all, you can essentially transform any time. Getting banged like a screen door in a hurricane, however...”_

 

Even though she was alone, Quistis blushed and covered her face with her hands. The pervert mind did love to pop up at the most random times. After what had just happened, it seemed even more inappropriate but on some other level, grounding and reassuring. No matter how much some things changed, others would stay the same. 

 

It wouldn't be a bad thing to read, talk more with Makine, and take her time packing either. Heart lighter and mind mollified, Quistis went to sleep and was out before she touched the pillow. Later, she wondered if it was a good or bad sign that there were no foreboding dreams.

 

/\/\/\

 


	29. Chapter 29

A short ride in a Shumi vessel quickly and quietly dropped Quistis off at Fisherman's Horizon and sped away before anyone truly saw the strange craft or its notable passenger. For the sake of security, Quistis had declined Seifer's offer to meet her at the Fisherman's Horizon train station and walk with her to Raijin's apartment, which would be their home base for the entirety of vacation. Raijin's place actually turned out to be underneath and slightly away from the train station, which was convenient though a little strange. As Quistis went through the central circular structure that made up the floating city of FH, she noted all the new construction with mixed feelings. It was nice that FH wasn't a sleepy weird little town anymore, but some enterprising souls had started to build floating communities around the pillars of the rail lines and all the construction seemed to cover up the sight of the ocean. Quistis wondered how the fishermen felt about all the mess, even though FH looked like it would be a very interesting place to live in the next few years.

 

It was fairly easy to find Raijin's apartment, and as Quistis neared the door, she heard sounds of laughter coming from within. At once she smiled as she heard Seifer's voice, but hearing how happy he was with Fujin and Raijin made her squirm a little in worry. They were all so close with each other and for many years, had been each other's only friends.

 

“ _What if they don't like me? What if they tell him I'm no good for him? What if they make him choose...?”_

 

“ _...on the other hand, they didn't do that with Edea or Ultimecia, and I'm_ way _less of a threat...”_

 

Quistis exhaled the worst of her jitters before knocking on the door. To her surprise, she heard Seifer curse and then there was a series of thudding noises that seemed to bode ill. Before she had time to wonder about that, pounding steps came toward her and the door swung open to reveal a freakishly tall, muscular man who went from albino-pale to ruddy red-tan in her eyes, a scale mail necklace under his collared shirt. Nevertheless Quistis stared up at Raijin, who was beaming down at her. How had she forgotten how tall he was?

 

“ _I suppose we've never really interacted...”_

 

“Hey!” He boomed, making her nearly jump out of her skin. As her senses flared with alarm, Quistis automatically took note of his scent; he smelled like rain and damp earth without the worms, with something slightly drier like ozone right before lightning hit. There were less fantastic smells too; the sharp chemical smell of a pomade, cedar, hempseed, and several different kinds of synthetic oil and metal dust.

 

“Ya made it!” said Raijin like they were long-lost friends, and Quistis froze when he actually stepped forward and hugged her. Had he always been this effusive? “Want something to eat? Drink? Take a nap?”

 

“Let her air back in so she can talk,” said a soft, high female voice, and when Raijin let go, Quistis leaned around his side to see a figure that turned into Fujin before her eyes, though seeing Fujin in anything but blue was a shock. She was actually still wearing a White SeeD uniform, the top half zipped down and tied around her waist to expose her plain black tanktop and a colorful high choker around her neck.. But this was a more relaxed Fujin than Quistis ever remembered seeing back in the Garden, and she was surprised when Fujin waved at her and said, “Hi.”

 

“Hello,” said Quistis somewhat cautiously. Her mild apprehension solidified when Fujin smiled at her. Why were they being so friendly? On the flipside, why did she expect them not to be? It wasn't like Seifer's affection was a finite resource any more than Quistis's, and she had to spread hers out among a lot more people. And sure, they had faced each other in combat but Quistis had never once truly thought of Fujin and Raijin as 'enemies' and it was clear they thought the same of her. Some of her foreboding eased.

 

Raijin scooped up Quistis's bag before she could object and carried it into the apartment, giving Quistis no choice but to close the door and follow him in. It was a small apartment, probably about the same size as her entire room back in the Garden, but the space was used well. To her right was a small kitchen with a fridge and an island/countertop, which was where Fujin was sitting. The rest of what Quistis could see was a living room and an office, though the 'rooms' were delineated by a couch and a computer desk. Framed movie posters were on the walls, united by art style though not genre. To the left and right of the living room were short hallways that looked like they led into other rooms, but Quistis barely noticed those in favor of the sliding glass doors on the far end of the apartment that led out to a balcony with plants. Sunshine and fresh sea-salted air filled the apartment.

 

“What a lovely place!” Quistis exclaimed, making Raijin beam.

 

“Thanks!” said Raijin. Then he laughed, saying, “Seifer bought it.”

 

“What?”

 

“I didn't buy it, I put down rent for a year,” said Seifer, coming out of the hall to the right. Automatically Quistis assessed his condition; healthy, well-fed, and clean in well-fitting, durable clothes that looked just a little wrinkled from being rolled tight for storage. As soon as Seifer saw her, his eyes lit up in a way that made Quistis's heart flutter and she blushed, her mechanical assessment stalling out. Fujin and Raijin observed the heated, happy looked and exchanged glances of their own, a wealth of information being passed between them.

 

After Raijin showed off his new culinary skills by cooking dinner, they watched a movie and Quistis laughed as Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin gleefully tore apart the bad acting, the plotholes, and even the palette choices in the costuming and lighting. She didn't participate but only because she was enjoying watching their interaction, and it warmed her heart even as it made her slightly jealous. Quistis loved her friends dearly, but even after everything she didn't consider herself particularly close with anyone except Xu, and from the in-jokes flying thick and fast and the way the DC casually touched and punched/smacked/flicked each other, they were obviously quite close.

 

She would have felt left out except they asked after her thoughts, pulled her into conversations, and sometimes just touched her on the knee or shoulder to get her attention. As the night went on, Quistis started to wonder if the DC's reputation for insularity and aloofness had more to do with Balamb Garden's environment than the DC itself. Without rules to enforce and people to watch over, they could just relax and be themselves. It was no surprise to Quistis that Raijin was a goof, but she was honestly shocked at how silly Seifer and Fujin could be. Especially Fujin, who would steal drinks from the boys and tweak their tails with perfect interjections that didn't need to be more than a syllable long. Meanwhile Seifer's silliness came out in snarky comments, throwing pillows, and stealthily poking Fujin in the back of the head until she turned around and started whacking Raijin, whose loud protests fell on deaf ears until Quistis pointed out the real perpetrator. Interestingly, Seifer had to fend off punching instead of smacking, and when Quistis asked about the difference in force, they all responded with “Because he lied.” Apparently they _really_ did not like lying.

 

The DC seemed the sort of friends who'd stay up all night horsing around, so Quistis was surprised when Seifer glanced at the clock and said, “Welp, time to go to bed.”

 

“It's 9pm,” said Quistis, blinking. Hadn't Seifer said he was nocturnal back in Deling City?

 

“Early to bed, early to rise,” said Seifer innocently as Fujin and Raijin got to their feet with certain smirks.

 

“You're planning something, aren't you?” Quistis asked flatly and then squeaked as Seifer kissed her on the lips in full view of his friends. She pushed away instantly, bright red, but Fujin and Raijin only laughed.

 

“Night,” said Raijin, waving and heading for his room.

 

“Keep it down,” said Fujin sternly, making Quistis blush even harder and Seifer laugh; her room was across the hall from theirs. She went to her room and Quistis heard a click as her door closed. Across the apartment, Raijin's door shut too and Quistis had exactly half a second of realizing that she and Seifer were alone before he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her with what really felt like months of restrained passion. The automatic objection that people were awake and nearby fell to pieces; half in a daze, Quistis slid into Seifer's lap to press herself against him, her body aching without and within for his touch. Two months was such a long time.

 

“Thank the fuck they finally went to sleep,” Seifer murmured, nudging her cheek to kiss behind her ear. As shivers went down her skin, he said softly, “I love you.”

 

“I—mm...”

 

Seifer chuckled and kissed her again, banishing the discomfort with the sheer pleasure of being touched again. Being unable to do more than hold hands and cuddle in front of company had set a slow burn in Quistis's blood, making her crave more in a way that she couldn't remember experiencing before. There was an insidious mindlessness that seemed to creep in the longer they kissed and touched, reacquainting themselves with the planes and curves of each other's bodies, and Quistis was on the verge of pulling up her skirt to go at it on the couch when Seifer at last sighed, picked her up, and carried her to their room. They both jumped when her feet knocked against the doorframe but it wasn't even a loud impact and didn't stop Seifer from essentially kicking the door shut, dropping Quistis onto the bed, and proceeding to inflame her senses with kisses on her lips and down her neck until she was gasping aloud.

 

“Shh,” he reminded her and then laughed softly as Quistis grabbed his belt and pulled him against her her in a way that made her intentions very clear. Seifer leaned back for a moment to enjoy the look on Quistis's face. She looked desperate and mindless, her sweet lips parted from the pants and moans he was having her make and in the darkness, her eyes seemed to flash like little mirrors as they picked up the passion literally shining from his. Seifer licked his lips, rational thought puffing away in the face of biology. The plan had been to tease her and completely knock her out, but it had been two whole months and Seifer had his limits. Mindful of her prohibition against 'grabbing', he had done his best to keep his hands to himself when they'd been around people, but Quistis was wearing one of those light, clingy skirts that was just fluffy enough that it moved with every motion and it was a short skirt too, probably coming just barely halfway down her thighs. Seifer was not sure why Quistis didn't show her legs more often; they were long, shapely, perfect. He wanted them wrapped around his waist _right now._

 

Seifer's soft groan of desire made Quistis's lips and tongue buzz as he kissed her, one hand greedily running over her breast while she heard him fumbling with his belt with the other. The realization of what was coming sent a surge of anticipation through her hips that was almost painful and when Seifer ran his hand up between her legs, a shock seemed to flare from the tips of his fingers to her core Being unable to make any noise was somehow intensely exciting even though Quistis knew no one would come in to investigate, and between the panting and the headiness of being together again, Quistis felt lightheaded with desire. She was barely aware of Seifer dragging her panties aside just enough for access, though the first hot and electric press of his cock against her snapped all of Quistis's attention to the here and now. A thin whine escaped her throat as he pressed into her with mindless need of his own and Quistis grabbed onto Seifer's shoulders as he sheathed himself in her with one long stroke.

 

“ _Fuck, this isn't going to last long at all,”_ thought Seifer hazily, fighting against the rolling tidal waves of pleasure that were threatening to overwhelm him. He took a moment to compose himself, but the tail end of that frayed dramatically when Quistis pulled him down and kissed him, moving underneath him as she wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him for more. Well, let it never be said that he was stingy. Seifer gave in to the imperative that was beating in his own blood, feeling Quistis lose control just enough to moan into his mouth as he drew in and out of her. He had enough awareness to press long and deep instead of pounding her, which would have made the bedframe clack tellingly against the wall and incite Fujin's wrath. But the need for more was greater. Eventually Seifer sat up, hoping the change in angle would settle his desire somewhat, but all this did was let him look at Quistis as she lay in front of him, her hands on his forearms, her legs spread to receive him to the utmost. The desire to fuck her through the mattress only intensified.

 

“Please,” Quistis whispered, half-mad with how slow he was going. She shifted against him, gasping softly at the way he felt inside her. Something was fluttering in her chest, seemingly beating to get out, driven to the surface with every thrust of pleasure. Seifer pulled his hands down to her hips and half-pulled, half-lifted her against him to really grind into her and Quistis threw her head back, her eyes almost rolling back in her head from the utter goodness of the contact.

 

“ _Oh, this'll work,”_ thought Seifer absently as instinct took over. His fingertips dug into her hips and as he pulled her onto him again and again, the speed and force gradually increased as he lost more control. It was definitely rougher than they'd done before but Quistis seemed to like it, arching for him and bracing her hands above her head for more leverage. In the end, it was too hard to even coordinate that motion and Seifer dropped Quistis's hips to the bed, taking the last few seconds of his endurance to hammer into her before pure ecstasy claimed him. Quistis clutching his hips and pulling him against her, uninhibited in her desire, was the cherry on the cake.

 

“...are you done?” Quistis asked hesitantly when Seifer exhaled deeply and stopped moving.

 

“In one way,” he admitted, pressing his lips to her cheek. “You?”

 

“Umm... No...” Admitting the truth was somehow embarrassing, but the frustration was physically uncomfortable.

 

Seifer kissed behind her ear and rolled off her to lie next to her on the bed. As Quistis shivered from the sudden loss of contact, Seifer kissed her on the lips and then down her neck again, making her sigh and writhe a little. It was nice but not near the level of stimulation she needed. She was so close to cumming, she just needed a little more, something inside...

 

And then Quistis nearly lifted off the bed when Seifer slid his fingers between her legs and then _up_ where she wanted it, his touch slick and perfect from what they'd done before. Seifer chuckled in gratification when he started to pump his fingers in and out of her and Quistis grabbed his wrist, her eyes half-closed and glazed with mindless desire. He didn't think it would take long for her with the way she was jamming her hips against his hand, but he still urged her along by licking and kissing a trail from her neck to her breast, and when he started sucking and swirling his tongue around her nipple, Quistis's pants deepened to open-mouthed gasps that told him she was nearly there. She clutched his head to her chest, nearly suffocating him with softness.

 

“Seifer,” Quistis breathed, her pleasure shuddering to its peak with the new intimacy: she'd never called his name before, and the sigh of deep affection she heard gust out of him made her both blush and cum harder than she'd done in a long while. As the climax truly lived up to its definition, she bucked nearly off the bed, curling herself into the touch of his fingers and tongue as much as humanly possible as absolutely delicious shivers of complex intimacy rippled throughout her body. It seemed to last ages before the pleasure finally let Quistis go, and she eased back onto the bed with a long, slow sigh of appreciation.

 

“That was wonderful,” said Quistis, making Seifer chuckle and lift his head to look at her. There was such a look of happiness and adoration in her eyes that he had to kiss her again, and her happy albeit slightly uncoordinated kiss back just made him grin. Quistis rolled onto her side to cuddle against him and by the time Seifer pulled up the covers and settled next to her, she was already half asleep. Seifer yawned. He wanted to rest too, but it wasn't time yet. He kept his eye on the clock and another on Quistis as she went from light, happy rest to 'dead to the world'.

 

Once Quistis was all the way asleep, Seifer eased out of bed, getting changed into black pants and a grey longsleeved shirt as quietly as he could. Sneaking out of the bedroom, he washed up before coming back into the living room, and five minutes later Fujin and Raijin came out of their rooms, also wearing various camouflaging grey. As Seifer put on his camera-shy jacket grey side out, he noted that Fujin was wearing her toolbelt and Raijin had the three duffels of meat that Seifer had kicked into Raijin's room earlier in the day. By now they had to be thawed.

 

Silently the Posse left the apartment.

 

/\/\/\

 

The three of them walked to Poltag's residence. He lived perhaps thirty minutes away, at a distance that most people would balk to traverse unless they were used to trekking across the plains like Garden students were. According to Raijin, Poltag the sex-pressuring douchecanoe was hitting the bars and he never came back before close. This meant they had at maximum two hours to do inconvenient and/or expensive pranking around his house. The posse drew a line at painful or possibly deadly pranks, partly because they were Garden-bred and knew how just how easy it was to kill people by accident; and also just because pain was petty. They were more creative than tacks in shoes.

 

Poltag did well enough for himself that he had a little house on the outer, lowermost ring of Fisherman's Horizon, and late on a Friday night, most people were out and the lights in the neighborhood were off. Nevertheless the posse moved quickly and quietly, Fujin sending breezes ahead to work like a rough radar system and Raijin and Seifer keeping an eye out in a more mundane fashion. They made it to Poltag's house without incident, and after verifying that he lived there (as easy as checking the mail), they got to work.

 

Seifer climbed onto the roof while Raijin passed him the duffels full of meat, and while Raijin and Fujin stuffed raw butcher scraps underneath the porch stairs and strewed them around the outside of the house, Seifer tiled a significant portion of the metal roof in crappy fast food patties he had 'liberated' from a truck earlier that day. With the three of them, it took less than an hour to complete the meat portion of the mayhem, and when Seifer shinnied down the drainpipe to find his friends, he'd found that Fujin had bumped the back door open and she and Raijin were in the process of carrying all the furniture out of Poltag's house. He pitched in. This was not the first time they'd done this to someone, though it was way easier to do to a student room than a whole freaking house. Nevertheless, the posse was determined and thorough, and Seifer and Raijin were in the process of dragging the queen-sized mattress out the back door when Seifer heard a light female voice say, “So what's the purpose of the meat?”

 

Seifer whipped around, making Raijin swear a bit as Seifer dropped his end of the mattress. Quistis was in the backyard, sitting in one of the removed chairs as Fujin stood by her, arms folded and an expression of amusement on her face.

 

“How—” Seifer boggled. “Did you _follow_ us?”

 

“You didn't leave a note,” said Quistis reprovingly as Fujin made the 'shame on you' gesture. “What was I supposed to think?”

 

“Ya didn't leave a note?” Raijin demanded from inside the house.

 

“I woke up and found you gone,” said Quistis, making Seifer flush. “I thought you'd been captured, but everything was too orderly. So I followed and watched.”

 

Seifer sputtered. Then the mattress bumped him in the back as Raijin gave it a pointed shove and Seifer picked up his end again; it wasn't heavy, just bulky, and as he and Raijin dragged it to a corner of the yard, Seifer told Quistis, “You said before our only mission together that I shouldn't tell you about anything you would have to scold me for.”

 

“Does this look like scolding?”

 

Seifer looked over his shoulder. Quistis was smiling pleasantly, but Seifer also noticed that she was wearing black pants and a longsleeved black shirt, the hood pulled up and pinned to a scarf she had tied over her hair. She was wearing boots and gloves too.

 

“...What are you saying?” He asked, suspicion and elation starting to rise in his blood. “You're here to _help?”_

 

“I've never pranked anybody before,” said Quistis with a shrug. “But one of my missions was prying this old eccentric out of his house for the reading of a will, and you would not _believe_ his jerry-rigged security system. So... I have some ideas. If you _really_ want to annoy this man.”

 

Seifer blinked. He looked at Raijin, who raised his brow consideringly, and then at Fujin, who smirked. Seifer looked back at Quistis, competitive challenge making him unconsciously lick his lips.

 

“How are we on time?” Seifer asked, never looking away from Quistis's coolly amused eyes.

 

“Twenty minutes until we should clear out,” said Raijin, folding his arms.

 

Seifer pointed at the open back door to Poltag's house. “You should get to work,” he said to Quistis.

 

“Fujin, a flathead screwdriver?” Quistis asked, holding out her hand, and Fujin handed her one out of her tool belt. Seifer and Raijin stared as Quistis took it with a smile and headed into the house.

 

“How come _she_ gets to handle your tools?” Raijin demanded.

 

“She's careful,” said Fujin, folding her arms.

 

“You have no idea what she's planning to do with that thing,” said Seifer, making Fujin purse her lips.

 

The posse went into the house. Now devoid of furniture, they had an excellent view of Quistis expertly bumping all the hinge pins out of every internal door and sticking them in her pocket. Fujin started nodding, looking impressed. When she was done with that, Quistis went to the fridge, pulled out cheese and what looked like leftovers, then took down all the curtains and starting stuffing the rods with the malodorous foods, which made Raijin snicker. When Quistis was done with that, she went to the pantry, sized it up, and then took out a can of nonstick cooking spray. Quistis then coated the middle of the hardwood floor, leaving about three feet of un-doctored spaces in front of the doors, and sprayed a few other spots around the house. Seifer tried not to be amused at the strategic placement of all her target areas, which promised to be unpredictable and annoying.

 

“Time,” said Quistis as she replaced the cooking spray in the pantry.

 

“Five minutes,” said Raijin, grinning.

 

Quistis tapped her lip, looking thoughtful. Then she went to the bathroom, walking around the edges of her booby-trapped spaces, and there were a series of rattling noises that made the posse look at each other in confusion. When they went to the bathroom to see what Quistis was doing, she was busily doctoring the chain of the toilet tank so it would run continuously, and when she was done with that, she unscrewed the shower head, took a paper packet out of her pocket, and filled the entire thing with sugar. In FH's warm climate, the first shower would probably result in sugar water coating the walls and then a surge in the local cockroach population. Quistis put the shower head back, the toilet tank lid back on, and smiled at the grinning posse, saying, “Shall we?”

 

They did not get out a moment too soon. As they were walking away, Raijin suddenly ducked into a side yard as a car came rolling down the road. Fujin kept walking, while Seifer hooked his arm around Quistis's waist and nuzzled her ear to hide his face. The car never stopped or slowed, passing by them without incident, and the driver—pale of skin, dark of hair, boyish-looking with a thin fringe of facial hair outlining his weak-ish jaw—pulled into the driveway without noticing how they slowed and glanced over their shoulders. He got out of his car and went into his house. At once, Fujin whistled and Raijin popped out of the side yard, grinning madly, and without a word, the four teenagers keened their ears, unable to resist the grand reveal.

 

“What the fuAHHH—” A thudding noise they could hear from a house down. Fujin stuffed her knuckle in her mouth while Raijin snickered, nearly doubling over. No less than three stray cats ran away from the house, all of them chowing down on scraps of meat that Fujin and Raijin had stuffed around the foundation. Knowing it was a terrible idea but unable to stop themselves, the four teenagers went back to the house and peeked in through the windows to see Poltag slip and land on his butt on the floor again, making them all seize with suppressed laughter. Poltag got up with a wince and took to shuffling across the floor, and as he opened the door to the backyard, he made a noise that was half a yell and half a groan when he saw all his furniture strewn over the yard.

 

“What the actual _fuck?!”_ He shouted, frustrated, and whipped around. The teenagers ducked, flattening themselves against the house. There were a few beats of silence before a loud CRACK made them realize he had tried to open a door, only to have it fall on the floor, and Poltag started swearing sulfurously. Raijin eased himself up and looked in through the window, grinning viciously as Poltag started doing something like a dance of rage and then slipped and fell again.

 

“That's what you _get,”_ he hissed, eyes glinting with vindication.

 

“Hell yeah,” Seifer whispered, grinning.

 

“We should get out of here,” said Quistis, Fujin nodding her agreement. The two girls were looking up and down the street and lights were starting to come on in the neighborhood as Poltag's shouts of frustration and pain woke up the neighbors. They split up and made their way independently back to Raijin's apartment, and once there, celebrated with victory beers. Raijin bowed to Quistis with a smirk.

 

“Ya know, I had my doubts,” he said. “I really thought you'd try to stop us when I first saw you.”

 

“Far be it from me to get in the way of something you all enjoy,” said Quistis, amused. Though her smile did not dim, her gaze dropped subtly as she said, “Besides, it seemed like he deserved the punishment. I _really_ don't like it when people spread malicious lies about others.”

 

Raijin nodded. He, Fujin, and Seifer of course remembered all the jealous, nasty insinuations about just how Quistis had graduated at 15, though her blazing success record almost immediately laid those rumors to rest.

 

“Well, good job on your first pranking out,” said Seifer, clinking his beer bottle with hers. “You're the one of the few girlfriends I've had who's actually been decent at it. Most everyone is too mild or too mean.”

 

“Or accidentally dangerous,” said Fujin, rolling her eyes. “Remember Shari?”

 

“Oh yeah,” sighed Raijin. To Quistis, he said, “She thought it would be funny to short out the one guy's room, but she threw water on the socket and not only shorted out the entire dorm, but then she panicked and tried to get the power back on, and the socket caught on fire.”

 

“We try to stay away from really expensive property damage if we can help it,” said Seifer, taking a drink of his beer.

 

“You know the fat in the meat is going to peel the paint off his roof when it gets hot tomorrow, right?” Quistis asked, making the posse blink and then burst out laughing.

 

“Damn!” Seifer laughed. “I shoulda spelled out 'bastard'!”

 

“Next time,” said Raijin, grinning broadly, and they all laughed, anticipating the damage, the sheer fury of their victim, and basking in the success of a stupid adventure that had gone off without a hitch. Life was very, very good.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Hooray for shenanigans! Also ALL THE HOORAY because Quistis will be getting a voice actor of her own in World of Final Fantasy (Miyuki Sawashiro) and I am curious to see if the official version matches with what I hear in my head. YEEHEHEHE

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	30. Chapter 30

The next day Fujin gave Raijin and Seifer gifts from Cid and Edea. The older couple seemed to think that both boys were starving and/or destitute considering the amount of food and money they'd given to Fujin to deliver. Raijin and Seifer accepted the former but not the latter, and when Fujin told Quistis that Edea had wanted to see her, Raijin and Seifer all but threw the money into her hands and then added some extra.

 

“For the kidlings,” said Raijin, Seifer nodding a beat behind. “And ship maintenance. That stuff's _expensive,_ ya know?”

 

So Quistis went. When she neared the docks, the distinctive silhouette of the White SeeD Ship drew her like a beacon and Quistis sighed in relief when no White SeeD appeared on the deck, hand-signaling for her to go back because something terrible had happened. Still there was a nervous flutter in her stomach when she approached and Quistis tried to figure out why. She hoped it was just because she hadn't seen Cid or Edea since the party to celebrate the end of Time Compression.

 

The deck was full of White SeeDs and a surprising number of children who were out enjoying the sun, and no few members of both groups eyed Quistis with interest as she approached. The hair on the back of Quistis's neck stood up a little as she swept her gaze over the children and felt little clicks of recognition with at least seven of them. Blue mages. The White SeeD Ship had blue mage children.

 

“ _I don't think I've ever seen so many blue mages in one place... Or more than one at a time. For me, there was only Myanna and she died...”_

 

Now intrigued, Quistis started to walk a little faster and in a very short time, was standing on the deck of the White SeeD Ship, ringed by interested by cautious White SeeDs while someone went to fetch Cid and Edea. Quistis sat on the railing and looked at the blue mage children, who were staring at her wide-eyed. It was hard not to smile at their interest and attentiveness, which made her wonder if this was what nursery school teachers felt like. 

 

“You're Quistis Trepe,” said one of them in the awed tones of a Trepie. Quistis suppressed something that was like a smile and a sigh; she kept forgetting her fanclub now extended past the Garden's borders.

 

“Yes I am,” she said, and a ripple of excitement went over the assembled children, some of them squealing loudly.

 

“Are you really a blue mage?” One of the blue mage children asked, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

 

“You tell me,” said Quistis, making all the blue mage children smile. Quistis could understand. When she'd first set eyes on Myanna, there had been something like instant recognition and familiarity, gladdening her lonely heart as Quistis realized that not only was she not alone, but she was going to be guided by a mentor. Quistis ran through what she had learned in her studies and wondered if she could teach them anything in the short time she was here.

 

“ _At the same time, Edea was the one who originally owned the Blue Magic Tome, so perhaps she has already taught them everything they can learn right now. It's not like children these young will need to know anything beyond 'keep your temper', which is a good lesson for everyone to learn anyway.”_

 

“Can you show us a thing?” One of the non-blue mage children asked, eyes shining.

 

“A thing?”

 

“They mean blue magic,” said one of the White SeeDs, amused.

 

“Well...” said Quistis slowly. She remembered how awed and overjoyed she'd been to see someone else do blue magic, but that had been in the middle of a mission. “Let's ask Matron first. It's her ship and I don't want her to be mad at me.”

 

Solemnly the children nodded while the White SeeDs smiled or chuckled. Quistis smiled and secretly let out a sigh of relief. A bunch of hypervigilant White SeeDs and a cluster of inevitable children did not need to see any blue magic if there was a chance of her losing control.

 

A White SeeD led Quistis downstairs into the Ship proper, giving Quistis glimpses of the life that Edea, Ellone, and the DC had all lived at some point. The halls were tall but narrow, the space used efficiently for the most part. Quistis passed a galley, what looked like two schoolrooms, a general playroom, and an empty room that looked like a counselor's office. Edea's office was on deck 3, but despite being windowless and in the deep interior, it was still cheery: light paneling, warm lighting, and carefully chosen furniture created an impression of space in a setting that was probably only about ten feet by ten feet square. Edea thanked the White SeeD guide and gave Quistis a warm smile.

 

“Hello, dear,” said Edea, her voice filled with familiar fondness. “You look very well.”

 

“Hi, Matron,” said Quistis shyly, feeling like a child again as Edea enveloped her a warm hug no less comforting for her slimmer arms. It was strange for Quistis to see her Matron wearing anything but a long black dress, but Quistis had to admit that Edea's long black tunic and wide-legged pants were probably more practical for a life at sea. She took a moment to study Edea's hair; the older woman had bangs now and her long black hair was half pulled back and braided, no doubt to protect it against salt spray. “I like the new hairstyle. It makes you look younger.”

 

Edea chuckled. “More importantly it disguises my face. I don't leave the Ship often, but when I do, it puts my mind more at ease. Sorcery is... Fallible.”

 

Quistis nodded, not sure how to respond. As she sat on the low couch Matron had in her office, she said, “I had no idea there were so many blue mage children around. I counted seven upstairs.”

 

Edea smiled. “Yes. Well, for the White SeeD Ship, I tend to gravitate toward children of unusual magical ability.”

 

“What do you mean?” Quistis asked, frowning.

 

“All orphans of course deserve to be loved and cared for, but natural mages require more specialized care,” said Edea, her gaze darkening. “As children they're are usually mistaken for sorceresses despite having completely different powers, and because they can break through at young ages, it's quite possible for them to hurt or kill people by accident. My unique talents allow me to teach them and help them develop in the safest ways possible.”

 

“Did I do that?” Quistis asked, suddenly worried. What if that was why she was an orphan? _“Did I kill my birth parents by accident?”_

 

“I do not know, but you did break through very early,” said Edea, making Quistis cringe a little. “The first time I saw your skill, you were three years old. You'd toddled away from the orphanage and Cid and I found you right before a Jelleye was going to eat you.”

 

Quistis's hands went to her mouth, her eyes going wide. “I could throw Laser Eyes at _three?”_

 

“Blue mages tend to inherit at least one monster skill from one of their ancestors,” said Edea with a nod. “Evidently that was yours. Cid ended up dispatching the Jelleye, but it was then that I knew you needed special training.”

 

Quistis nodded slowly. Vaguely she remembered sitting with Edea, listening to words that told her to keep calm and focused, how to separate her first feeling from her second feeling, how to assess whether she _really_ needed to be angry about something...

 

“ _I always thought I was like that naturally, which was why I could use blue magic without losing myself... But instead, needing to control the blue magic shaped who I was... Who I am today.”_

 

A ripple of dismay started to make Quistis feel nauseous, but Edea reached out and touched her shoulder, making her look at the older woman.

 

“You are a kind young woman,” said Edea. “You have empathy for so many people. You are passionate about learning. You give wholeheartedly to your friends and anyone you consider your family. That has always been _you,_ Quistis. _You_ are the one who has chosen to use the tools you have in your specific way.”

 

She'd forgotten Edea was like that, able to pierce to the heart of things with just a look and a few words. Quistis dropped her hands from her mouth with a sigh. “My whole life, I feel like I've been second-guessing myself...”

 

“Everyone has doubts about themselves. Particularly intelligent people, since they can see more than two sides to every argument. It's not a bad thing.”

 

“But who would I be if I didn't have the training you gave me?” Quistis had to ask. “Would I be more impulsive? Less disciplined?”

 

“You would be dead,” said Edea flatly, making Quistis stop in shock. “I'm sorry, Quistis, but a child breaking through at your age would have almost certainly been killed by authorities who would use 'pulic safety' as their excuse. Or you would have been trained to be a dog of the government, like Cid was.”

 

Edea's dark amber eyes turned hard as she said, “You must never think that simply because they wear uniforms and swear to follow the rules that police officers and soldiers aren't also humans with their own fears and biases. And that being around other people who feel the same as they do doesn't exacerbate their faults.”

 

“ _I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Edea is a little anti-establishment,”_ thought Quistis, though she was stunned. Aloud she said, “And yet you came up with the idea for SeeD.”

 

“The original idea for SeeD was more like this ship,” said Edea, gesturing around her. “An organic collective able to respond quickly to a wide variety of situations, with every member acting as an independent unit. It was never supposed to function as a militia. And _definitely_ not funnel children into the army,” she said with particular distaste. Quistis realized that having 'her' base out of Galbadia Garden had probably made Edea sick.

 

“Cid did always tell us to think independently,” said Quistis mildly, watching Edea's reaction.

 

“I'm sure he did, but did the curriculum and training support that goal too?” asked the sorceress, her mouth twisting slightly. When Quistis hesitated, Edea sighed again. “We do our best. And sometimes we even succeed. But enough about SeeD...”

 

Quistis frowned when Edea's eyes clouded with worry, and as the older woman's gaze dropped to the floor, she said, “Quistis... I've wanted to apologize for many years now about adopting you out to—”

 

“Oh Matron, don't worry about it,” said Quistis immediately, shaking her head. “I barely remember them.”

 

“Still—”

 

“They were very clever for being religiously-motivated sociopaths,” said Quistis, making Edea sigh again. “Don't blame yourself for being fooled, please.”

 

“You may be surprised, but I still consider all of you children to be my responsibility to an extent,” said Edea, gazing down at her clasped hands. “The Gardens... SeeD... It was not what I wanted for any of you at any time, but fate cannot be denied... Or perhaps more accurately, a closed time loop. Squall told me that he traveled to the past and witnessed Ultimecia trying to attack Ellone... And I do remember him as he is now, pulling Ellone away while I took Ultimecia's essence into myself. Seeing him then, I realized what had to be created in order to protect our now... But the cost was very high.”

 

“If not for SeeD, I might be dead, a child bride, or brainwashed into a faith that destroyed me,” said Quistis. “That's a cost that seems higher to me.”

 

“Yet your circumstances are hardly the norm,” Edea pointed out gently. “I cannot help but wonder how many children were funneled into SeeD who would have otherwise been happier elsewhere. And how many of them are still living.”

 

“People can die from walking up the stairs,” said Quistis, her eyes nevertheless dropping to the floor. 32 dead partners seemed to flash before her eyes. “And we had every opportunity to quit. Between the support track and the ward stipend, we _had_ options. Statistically there have to be some people who have regrets, but I don't know any. We live and die proud of our accomplishments.”

 

“And yet you went on sabbatical.”

 

Quistis exhaled deeply, lifting her head. Selphie's words seemed to echo in her mind as she said, “Because I'm not _just_ my accomplishments.”

 

Edea smiled, seemingly pleased despite Quistis suddenly wondering if she was being strange or inconsistent.

 

“Are you still walking out with Seifer?” asked Edea, making Quistis jump and then turn red.

 

“Y-yes,” said Quistis, embarrassed. 'Walking out' made it seem like their relationship was formal, like they were courting or otherwise _really_ serious. Without meaning to, Quistis imagined walking down the aisle in a wedding dress with Seifer standing at the other end and the overwhelming explosion of sheer emotion was almost impossible to comprehend. It felt like fear and desire and something even more encompassing than those two that she was still afraid to name. It felt like sheer impossibility. It felt like an oncoming headache. Edea watched the blonde sage turn redder and redder, her hands clenching into fists on her knees, but she didn't exactly look unhappy. More like she'd just realized something.

 

At the same time, Quistis did look like she was going to pass out, so Edea patted her on the knee and made Quistis jump a bit, blinking rapidly.

 

“That's nice,” said Edea, her voice pleasant and bland. She had wanted to inquire in more detail about their relationship but Quistis's reaction had basically told her all she wanted to know, so instead Edea asked, “Are you happy?”

 

“Very happy,” said Quistis, looking down at her fists. “Sometimes so much that it scares me. Honestly, I didn't think I'd ever feel like this...”

 

“Why not?”

 

Quistis didn't say anything. After reassuring Matron that she was fine, that she wasn't broken by being adopted out to terrible people and then going into SeeD, how was she going to say that those awful adults were the ones who'd initially told her that she wasn't good enough for anything? How insignificant she was before their god? And how could Quistis say that she'd never expected to fall in love or have a relationship because she was sure she'd die before ever starting one? Or that no one would want to touch someone with so much blood on her hands...

 

“ _Maybe I'm not fine. Maybe I just...survived. And now I'm living...”_

 

“I've just never been so happy before,” said Quistis softly, looking at Edea. The sorceress looked at her with knowing, calm amber eyes, making something sharp and unpleasant start to piece Quistis's chest like a nail through the breastbone. Quistis took a deep breath and calmed herself, even feeling that concentration tinged with resentment, and tried to distract herself by asking,, “Matron, how did I come to the orphanage?”

 

Edea lifted her head slightly, her expression tightening. For a second Quistis thought Edea was going to say something like she didn't remember or worse, lie to her, but instead Edea rose and went to her desk. She pulled out a drawer, flipped through a few hanging filing folders, and then came back a stack of folders, the topmost of which was labeled with 'Trepe, Quistis'. Quistis blinked at her as Edea held the stack out.

 

“Are these...?” Quistis asked, suddenly unable to breathe.

 

“Yes,” said Edea, nodding. “Your papers. And Squall's, Irvine's, Zell's, and Selphie's. And Seifer's too, of course. You're going to see them sooner than I will, so you should pass them along.”

 

“Matron...” Quistis stared at the stack. As she belatedly took the folders from Edea, a shiver went over her skin. They didn't feel any different from the files that Quistis handled every day, but they felt heavy with memory and almost electric with significance. Quistis stared down at her file, the only one she felt like she really had the right to touch, and opened it as if in a trance.

 

-

 

18 January, 1998

 

Name: Trepe, Quistis

Birthday: October 4, 1998

Weight: 9lbs2oz

Height: 22 inches

 

Father: X, living

Mother: X, living

 

Received: 16 January 1998 by EK in Timber.

 

Circumstance: Birth mother is unable to care for child at this time. Birth father is unaware of child's existence, but likely to endanger child as he is married. Information received from note pinned to baby's swaddling clothes.

 

Further notes: I found the baby on the gangplank of the ship fortunately before the morning freight rush and before she could roll into the ocean. She wasn't even in a basket. Her mother must have been very desperate, but still... Couldn't she have come up and given me her child personally? If you're going to take steps to see your baby safe, why wouldn't you literally take a few more? I'm so glad that nothing bad happened. Fortunately Quistis is healthy. Especially her lungs.

 

-

 

There were baby pictures in the file too. Official-looking ones of her baby head and frame that would not have been out of place in a doctor's office, but sweeter ones as well that indicated years of happiness. Every photo had something written on the back.

 

“BabyQ hates clothing,” was written underneath a picture of a happily naked blonde baby, a yellow onesie hanging on by just one toe.

 

“Crying at the sight of Cid's face for no discernable reason. Out of frame, Cid is sulking,” explained a photo of Quistis wailing red-faced.

 

“Sharing a crib with Seifer while hers is being climb-proofed,” described a third photograph and Quistis stared down at a picture of two near-identical blonde babies, distinguishable only because one was sitting up and the other one had a thick-chained silver necklace wrapped around his left forearm four times. Quistis picked up this picture and stared at it. Seifer as a baby... He had been so round and pudgy. In the photo, he had a fistful of Quistis's pant leg and was staring up at her wide-eyed, his eyes lightening from infant blue to the sea-green color they were now. He looked as innocent as all babies did, but there was a focus in his eyes even as an infant that made Quistis smile with recognition.

 

“I think he was the heaviest baby we'd ever had,” mused Edea, making Quistis look up. The older woman seemed amused by the photo she'd selected. “Sometimes children are like that, just very dense. You were a normal weight.”

 

“This...” Quistis stared down at her file. She could feel her eyes starting to burn and before tears could splatter the precious information, Quistis replaced the photo and closed the manila folder, sniffling. “Thank you, Matron.”

 

“It's the least I can do,” said Edea, coming over and giving her a hug. At once Quistis smelled that intensely bitter, back-around-to-sweet scent that she'd noticed from Seifer's bracelets so long ago, and there was something dusty and vaguely insectile too. Something electric, something peppery, something like damp earth and sweet rot. _Sorcery_. But there was something softer too; the smell of the sea, vague traces of the herbs Edea liked to cook with. That smell was uniquely Matron.

 

“ _Matron, who never wanted a bloody fate for us... And set us on it anyway. I know I_ chose _the Garden because it was better than the alternative, but Squall... Seifer... What choice did they have? Do they ever think about things like this?”_

 

After that, Quistis went to talk to Cid. He was in his own office and Quistis wondered why he hadn't just talked to her when she'd been with Edea, but then she wondered if perhaps the cracks Seifer mentioned about their relationship months ago were widening to fissures. The thought of that made her sad. It was too sad to love someone for so long and see them so infrequently, only to be reunited and find that things weren't the same. The parallels made her feel a little sick and worried. How long were she and Seifer going to last before something terrible happened?

 

When Quistis knocked on the door, the familiar voice calling 'come in' momentarily took her back to brighter, lighter days, and when she opened the door she expected to see Cid Kramer in his red sweatervest and khakis, beaming out of a round and jolly face. Instead Quistis stopped dead in the doorway, stunned by the dramatically slimmer, graying man who was getting to his feet and looking at her with a warm but somewhat sad-edged smile. Instead of khakis he was wearing nautical twill and what looked like a dragon-leather vest that was both old and fit him like it had been made for him. His hair was longer too and Quistis abruptly flashed back to her childhood, when a younger, virile Cid had protected the orphanage with one hand and herded giggling children with the other. The painful sliver in her chest seemed to swell and crack apart her breastbone, edging towards her heart.

 

“Quistis,” he said warmly, offering her his hand. She shook it and came into the office, which was darkly masculine and yet made cozy from the warm lights in sconces along the walls. If Edea's office was one where children came for comfort and guidance, Cid's was where they came to tell their secrets. No great shock. As Quistis took a seat, somewhat warily, more flickers of memory about Cid Kramer came back. Cid half-asleep in the kitchen at breakfast, smiling at the children when they teased him—only as an adult did Quistis recognize that Cid's smile had been tinted with pain and that he leaned over on the table like a man injured, not merely napping. She remembered Cid playing with the children on the beach, wearing swim trunks and a network of scars that looked like a patchwork white shirt over his (back-then) tanned skin. She remembered how happy everyone was when Cid would come back from his trips—he must have been out trying to raise funds for the Garden even though he always came back with new books and toys. She'd never realized how busy he must have been until this moment.

 

“Hello...Cid,” said Quistis, the automatic 'Headmaster' nearly coming from her lips instead. He noticed and chuckled, sounding purely amused.

 

“I am finding a new joy in informality,” he said, and gestured at his desk. “Something to drink?”

 

“As long as it's not whiskey,” said Quistis, remembering her adverse reaction in Deling City.

 

“Brandy it is, then,” said Cid, taking a bottle that was more than halfway down and then spending the next minute looking for cups. It could not be clearer that he was drinking alone and Quistis schooled her expression to polite interest to keep him from seeing the swell of pity in her eyes. Was it retirement? Or something more painful that was making Cid literally less of a man?

 

“ _He does look healthier without the extra weight, but he seemed happier with it... What a tradeoff.”_

 

He managed to find glasses and they sat and drank for a while, chatting about commonplaces and things back at the Garden. Cid listened politely and laughed and expressed sympathy when it was appropriate—he remembered the mountains of paperwork, the endless struggle for fundraising, and the agony of assigning field tests. That was something Quistis had not done yet and she was not looking forward to it. With every passing day the Garden students seemed younger and younger, their age and naivete so fresh and clean that it almost cut her to look at them. They could be dead of what they thought was their own choice as early as 15. As Quistis sipped her brandy, she wondered what the hell had gone through Cid Kramer's head when he had founded the Garden. Well... His and Edea's. The cold sliver had finally reached her heart, aided by the warmth of the alcohol, but instead of pain there was just numbness. Quistis looked at Cid Kramer and didn't see a headmaster or an adoptive father. She saw a soldier. She saw a knight.

 

“ _Did he ever care about us?”_ Quistis found herself wondering. _“I know how nice he can be, but at the same time...”_

 

“Cid, do you ever regret founding the Gardens?” Quistis asked, half-blurting out the query. As once Cid's gaze cooled and he sat up like a military man. What had he done before becoming a caretaker of lost children by the sea?

 

“Are you asking me if I regret founding the Gardens?” Cid asked, his voice shrewd in a way that made Quistis sit up too. “Or if I regret raising SeeDs?”

 

“The latter, I suppose,” said Quistis, thinking about how genuinely happy Cid had always seemed at support staff graduation. How completely understanding and supportive he was of any student who wanted to leave.

 

“I do not,” said Cid, shaking his head. “The SeeD program was something I had been working for a very long time... You may not be aware, but I am formerly of the Galbadian military.”

 

“I had thought as much,” said Quistis, able to believe it from the slimmer, stronger-looking Cid who was speaking now.

 

Cid just nodded. “During my time there, I saw a great many problems with the structure that not only annoyed me, but produced inferior soldiers who never made it past their first engagement. So when Edea broached the idea of the Gardens, I was all for it.”

 

“But we were just children,” said Quistis, making Cid nod. “And you didn't think there was anything wrong with that?”

 

“My training started when I was five and I was enlisted when I was twelve,” said Cid, making Quistis cock her head; had she heard him correctly? “So as a young man, putting off specific training until later seemed very reasonable. The exceptions to that rule were Squall and Seifer, mostly because I couldn't keep the latter away and he would drag Squall with him. You had been adopted by then, so you did not see the initial training process.”

 

“How old were the first students, then?”

 

“Usually ten and older,” said Cid, taking a sip of his brandy. “Everyone younger was adopted out or given to people I trusted to continue the adoption process. We started accepting younger wards later... On someone else's advice.”

 

“But Squall and Seifer—”

 

Cid sighed heavily, seeming to sink not only into his chair, but into his bones. “When Ellone and Edea had to leave, they took things _very_ badly. Do you remember?”

 

“Vaguely,” said Quistis slowly. She remembered trying to hug Squall like Sis did, to brush his hair and be nice, but nothing ever seemed to work. He cried and he moped and he would stand outside looking hopelessly at the horizon that had eaten Sis and the White SeeD Ship. And when Quistis would break down in tears because nothing was working, Seifer would be there laughing at her and then usually saying something mean to Squall until the younger boy screamed at him or started fighting with him. Back then, Seifer had been so mean...

 

...mean? No. Hurt. As an adult, Quistis recognized that now. He had been abandoned by his mother and had been lashing out. Seifer had always loved Edea the most, behaving only for her, wanting only her attention. No wonder he had come to heel so quickly as a barely grown man.

 

It also occurred to Quistis that this was perhaps why Seifer behaved the way he did toward Squall. Squall's pain reminded him too much of his own and of course he hated that, so he ridiculed the boy in an attempt to feel better. But at the same time, Seifer had been the only one who had been able to shake Squall out of his near non-communicative moods, forcing the younger boy to interact with the world whenever it looked like he was about to completely shut himself off. So maybe there was an unconscious, nobler motive too, or at the very least a positive side effect.

 

“They were both so distraught that I thought uprooting them again would be detrimental,” said Cid, drawing Quistis's focus back to the present. “So I kept them around. And when I began to train the older children in what I knew, Seifer and Squall were always there, watching and listening. Seifer was fascinated. He immediately wanted to learn, and he would bully Squall into fighting with him since none of the older children would. Eventually I _had_ to train them, because when I forbade it, well... Seifer got creative.”

 

“I can imagine,” Quistis murmured, thinking about the various pranks and tricks the posse had pulled, usually with Seifer at the lead. Add that to Seifer's tendency to bristle when someone told him he couldn't do something, and Quistis was not at all surprised that Seifer as a child had shoehorned his way into gunblade training. Left to his own devices, he'd probably raided the kitchen and armed himself and Squall with carving knives.

 

“He would have been something if I'd really been able to focus my attention,” Cid murmured, making Quistis look at him closely. Was he getting drunk in front of her? “As it is, Seifer has always been more in love with swinging a weapon than actually using it... And always just talented enough to make it work. It was very frustrating that he refused to live up to his potential, you know.”

 

“I remember,” said Quistis dryly. It had been one of her primary annoyances as an instructor, because even though she was new, she _knew_ Seifer had ability. They hadn't interacted much at the Garden; he'd been in regular classes and Quistis had been personally mentored by Xu and attending classes with students who were at least four years older. Nevertheless she had seen Seifer on the practice ground and during conditioning, and Seifer was the type who picked up new skills so easily it had actually made her sick with jealousy. Then he promptly refused to perfect anything because he had what he wanted, which just added to the rage. Ooh, thinking about it still made Quistis twitch.

 

“Is he doing well?” Cid asked, looking at Quistis with dark, unreadable eyes.

 

“He seems to be,” said Quistis.

 

“Has he had any more nightmares?”

 

“Just one that I know of.”

 

Cid nodded. “Only one... That's very good.”

 

“Did he used to have more?”

 

“Oh yes,” said Cid, taking another sip of his brandy. “Every soldier does. Dreaming of horrors, possibilities... They seem to fade with time and support. It's good that you two are involved.”

 

“ _Is it?”_ Quistis mulled. She was definitely happy but there were so many things that could go wrong, not the least of which being found out somehow.

 

“And your own nightmares?” Cid asked, making Quistis look at him in surprise. “How have they been?”

 

“I haven't had any in a while either,” said Quistis, shaking her head. Cid nodded, his gaze turning dark.

 

“I objected to your graduation to SeeD,” he said abruptly, making Quistis stare at him. “Xu insisted you were ready at 15, but I did not agree with her. I still remembered our tea parties. And discussing the fallibility of the dictionary with you. You should have had more of a youth, particularly considering the circumstances we tossed you into. I'm terribly, terribly sorry, Quistis.”

 

Quistis's jaw dropped. It was one thing for Edea to express regrets; she was Matron, the kind mother who wanted nothing but the best. But Cid... He was the taskmaster, the headmaster, the real founder of SeeD...

 

“ _But he_ should _be sorry. He was an adult. He knew better, he should have stopped me...”_

 

But at the same time, Xu had objected too. _“Not_ this _field test, Quistis. It's going to be rougher than usual.”_ And Quistis had argued and railed against her until Xu had given in, helpless in the face of Quistis's mad desire to become a SeeD. She had wanted so badly to become better than she was... To become an adult and no longer a scared little girl in the dark.

 

“The past is done with,” said Quistis, still unwilling to let Cid off as easily as Edea. He had been the one to send teenagers off to kill and die. He had come up with the curriculum to make the most of the first happen before the second did. Though SeeD and the Gardens had been Edea's idea, all she had done was basically set the parameters... And Cid, her faithful knight, had carried them out.

 

“ _But if that's true, I can't hold Cid accountable without holding Seifer accountable... For all that Cid seems to be in his own mind, there were times when Seifer seemed like himself too...”_

 

Hyne, what an ugly, terrifying thought. Quistis bit her lip as she realized how very little she knew of the sorceress-knight bond, and horrifying scenarios of Seifer awakening like a sleeper agent to slit everyone's throats made her shiver. Not the least because at some time he would realize what he had done, and then probably harm or even kill himself.

 

“ _No. He wouldn't let that happen. In Ultimecia's castle, he chose death rather than serving her agenda again... So if he ever thought he was losing his mind, then he might... Pre-emptively...”_

 

For all his impatience, his cockiness, his temper, Seifer was at heart a noble man who had been mistreated and abused. The nobility remained, but he was still suffering the consequences of his forcefully warped honor, and if it was twisted again, then...

 

“ _It's not going to happen,”_ thought Quistis, unconsciously clutching the ammonite pendant she still wore. _“She's dead. He's free. He just has nightmares, that's all, and I know better than most how those can terrify you and mean absolutely nothing.”_

 

After a few more minutes of meaningless conversation with Cid and handing over the packet of money (which he accepted; Edea would have said no, which was why Quistis had waited until then), Quistis walked back to Raijin's apartment, her heart heavy and her head whirling. When she came in, Seifer and Fujin were at the kitchen counter playing five-finger-fillet with each other's hands and keeping score with shots. Raijin sat nearby with a first aid kit even though they were only using butterknives and for a while Quistis came over and said nothing, instead watching the game intensify. For a one-eyed person, Fujin was doing better than Seifer when it came to not accidentally stabbing someone and when Seifer cracked Fujin on the knuckle, she barely flinched and instead laughed as Seifer swore and took a shot of something that made him cough and curse.

 

“Why?” Quistis asked finally.

 

They all looked at her, blinking. “Why not?” Seifer asked after a moment of silence.

 

Quistis opened her mouth and shut it. She could not think of any question that would give her an answer she would like or even understand. Instead she looked at Seifer and affection swelled in her chest, seeing him alert and cheerful and even relaxed around his friends. Despite everything that had happened to him, Seifer was more whole than he thought.

 

“ _Maybe I am too...”_

 

There would be other issues, of course, the largest of which were the files containing birth certificates and other precious information about the past, but for now those heavy truths could wait.

 

“Did you have a nice visit?” Fujin asked, her tone curious rather than perfunctory.

 

“Well... It was good to see the two of them healthy,” said Quistis as she came over to the group. Seifer was sitting on a tall bar stool and he looped his arm around her waist as she leaned against him, holding her elbows. “But also a little sad. Adults are never as perfect as you think they are when you start to grow up.”

 

“Hah! Nah,” said Raijin, a bitter-edged smile turning his face older than his 19 years. Quistis abruptly remembered he had been abandoned by his father at the Garden shortly after turning twelve. “They never are.”

 

“Adults are people,” said Fujin, her gaze dropping to the floor. She rubbed the collar around her neck, which was the dark marbled grey of fireblasted titanium and made colorful by what looked like friendship bracelets tied by tiny hands. Both the collar and the colors hid the scars from the dog attack that had blinded her and nearly ended her life as a child. Afterward, Fujin had been sent off to the Garden and as far as Quistis knew, had never seen her family again. “And people are weak or fallible or cruel...”

 

“The sooner you accept that, the better off you'll be,” said Seifer, his voice somber. When Quistis looked at him, she was not surprised to see a complex mix of emotions coloring his otherwise bright eyes. “Especially when it comes to authority figures or people you look up to.”

 

“Then who do you trust?” Quistis asked, not expecting a reply. “Who loves you unconditionally?”

 

“Family,” said the posse as one, making Quistis look up in surprise. She looked at them all and for a moment almost saw the currents of trust, affection, and loyalty that ran between the three of them like deep rivers. She realized with a little chill that the posse honestly loved each other, so no wonder Seifer knew what love felt like. No wonder he wanted to say it and claim it.

 

“ _Do I know what love is? Any kind of it...?”_

 

There was the kind that Seifer was offering her, frightening in the intensity of its strength and her own desire for such affection. There was the kind she had with her friends, whom she would follow into any hell... Even festival planning. And there was the kind she had with Xu and to a lesser extent, Asano Kadowaki, because both women listened to her, supported her, and had never really let her down, and she knew that if they needed something of her, it was because they trusted her to be there for them. Rather than being an uncomfortable obligation, it was an honor to know she was so high in their estimation.

 

“ _I do know what love is,”_ thought Quistis with some relief, her shy heart seeming to ease toward warmth and light. And when she looked at Seifer, the gentle heat inside her chest intensified to something like holding a sun in her ribcage. _“Oh. I see. I wonder if this is what he feels like too...”_

 

The words pushed gently against her lips, but it wasn't time to let them out. She didn't want to share such a moment with anyone else except the one who mattered. Still, she had to do something, so with a nervous little flutter that had a bit to do with company being present and more to do with the significance of what she wanted to say, Quistis leaned back and kissed Seifer behind his ear. It made him jump a little bit and look at her in amusement. And for now, that was just right.

 

/\/\/\

 

To: LIST:Esthar Wards

 

From: Laguna Loire

 

Hi kiddos! I bet you thought I was messing with you when I said I'd write. I'm sorry it's not as soon as I'd hoped. The job is crazy, but also boring and I won't go into that.

 

How is Balamb Garden treating you? Be honest, I want to make sure you're happy and making friends. New Year is coming up and I'm sending each of you a present. I know you're far away, but you'll always be Estharians by birth and always welcome to come home at any time, okay? Just let Commander Leonhart or Assistant Headmaster Trepe know if you want to come back. Otherwise, study hard, be happy, and become people who make _yourselves_ proud. Uncle Laguna is rooting for you!

 

/\

 

“President Loire, Dr. Piet Anthony of the Lunar Research Team is here to see you.”

 

“Send him in,” said Laguna as he clicked the 'send' button on his quick email to the Esthar wards. In the end, thirty of the eighty children proctored had passed and to Laguna's relief, all but seven of them had been determined to go onto the support track. When he met with the seven who were going to be trained as SeeDs, he was sad to find that all of them were really looking forward to becoming combat specialists like the Six. Especially Commander Leonhart! He was sooo cool. And the fact that his signature weapon was Estharian was even COOLER. Laguna wondered if Squall knew he inspired such worship, though Laguna imagined that whether he knew or not, his son would fold his arms and mutter 'Whatever'.

 

“Piet,” said Laguna, waving at the scientist as he entered. “What have you got for me today? Please tell me we figured out the death ray.”

 

“We have not,” said Piet, making Laguna sigh in exaggerated disappointment; it was getting to be a tired joke. “Though we did discover something that's very interesting indeed.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Piet had brought his tablet and Laguna watched with interest as the projectors in the slim computer came to life, instantly displaying multiple windows in the air. Estharian technology still amazed him after all these years, though that amazement ran in the background as Piet gestured at a list of known Lunar Beasts. Some were highlighted in red.

 

“These are currently the Lunar Beast types we have encountered in the field and abroad,” said Piet. “Most of the data comes from the SeeD teams, which also collects tissue samples as per their contract. While I was analyzing the samples, I received several errors informing me I was attempting to make multiple entries for the same sample.”

 

“And...?”

 

“I wasn't,” said Piet flatly. “I logged them all personally. Yet despite having multiple samples of one monster type, the computer absolutely refused to acknowledge them as anything but duplicates of the first, initial sample.”

 

Laguna nodded slowly, which Piet correctly interpreted as 'please get to the point'.

 

“The Lunar Beasts aren't monsters as we know them,” said Piet, making Laguna frown. “Terrestrial monsters, even when they reproduce by asexually or by budding, all have distinct DNA codes. They _are_ individuals. The Lunar Beasts are not. They are sterile. They are clones.”

 

The way Piet said the word 'clones' seemed to be significant, but all Laguna could think of was a crappy sci-fi movie he had seen ages ago about human clones rising up against their masters and then screwing them into submission. Now that he thought about it, he realized he'd probably caught a late-night porno out on duty somewhere and Laguna nearly laughed in Piet's face.

 

“Okay,” said Laguna, making Piet's face tighten. “I'm sorry, Piet, but I really don't know what you're getting at. What is the significance to Esthar about them being clones? They wreak havoc like regular monsters do. They die like regular monsters do. So...?”

 

Piet minimized the monster list and pointed at another floating window. This one was a video feed of the surface of the moon, taken by one of the three satellites that had been out of the way of the Lunar Cry. There was a graph too, which Laguna assumed was for his convenience.

 

“This is what the surface of the moon looked like a year before the Lunar Cry,” said Piet, and the video on the monitor flickered, displaying a downward shot of a white moonscape that had no trace of red. “By collecting data from the other satellites, we determined that there seemed to be about one hundred thousand Lunar Beasts on the moon. They were all spread out and not doing much of anything.

 

“Now here is the surface of the moon right after the Lunar Cry...” Piet said as the video flickered again. There was an ugly red blotch on the moon where the monsters had exploded forth, exactly the color of fresh blood. As Laguna's lips thinned, Piet said, “Most of our satellites were destroyed, but we were able to get enough footage from the other three to extrapolate that out of the original one hundred thousand, perhaps two thousand remained on the surface. Now, here is six months after the Lunar Cry... aAnd now.”

 

“The numbers are going up,” said Laguna, his eyes on the graph rather than the shots of the moon. Piet nodded, something like relief in his eyes.

 

“They're not just going up. They're going up steadily.”

 

“Not a surprise,” said Laguna with a shrug. “Nobody's hunting them down up there.”

 

“True... But remember what I said, the Lunar Beasts are clones,” said Piet. The scientist waited as Laguna puzzled through all the information.

 

“ _Clones... The numbers are going up steadily... They're identical...”_

 

Laguna blinked. There was a possibility forming in his head, but it seemed too damn weird. Nevertheless he had a reputation for being weird and attempting the impossible, so Laguna said slowly, “Piet... You think they're being _made,_ don't you?”

 

“I do,” said Piet, making Laguna stare. “The information about the clones was disturbing enough, but look at the rate of monster population again.” Piet gestured with growing intensity at the straight line connecting the points of data. It was ruler-straight. “That is NOT how naturally reproducing monsters behave. That looks more like this,” said Piet, flicking his hand at the floating screen and making another line appear. This one was curved, subtly at first and then dramatically. For no good reason Laguna remembered calculus class from college.

 

“Monsters produce existentially,” he said, surprised he remembered the word.

 

“...Exponentially, but yes,” said Piet, unable to stop from correcting the President. Fortunately Laguna was not the kind who took such things amiss. “Most lifeforms do. But the Lunar Beasts...”

 

“Their numbers just keep going up like a production line.”

 

Piet nodded, his face pale but his eyes shining with scientific excitement. Laguna dragged his hand over his mouth, his heart thudding in his chest. A bolt of pain made Laguna wince and he rubbed his leg as it started to cramp; if he'd been standing, the sudden seize of the muscle would have dropped him to the floor. As it was, he never cramped when he was sitting down unless he was very, very stressed.

 

“...Thanks, Piet,” said Laguna, making the scientist blink and then stare at him in surprise. “I'll, uh... Take this under consideration.”

 

“President Loire, do you understand what this means?” Piet pointed at the monitor, his eyes becoming wild. “If this hypothesis is correct, _there is intelligent life on the moon._ Intelligent and possibly hostile. Almost certainly hostile. It is producing monsters at this very second.”

 

“At the same time, we still have close to eighty thousand superpowered and super-pissed monsters on our surface now,” said Laguna. “What's the current number of monsters on the moon at the moment?”

 

“It's estimated to be a little over 10,000 at this point,” said Piet. “And that number is only growing—”

 

“I know, I know,” said Laguna before Piet could spin off into a rant. “But at that rate of growth, it's gonna take, what... Like ten years before there's that many monsters available to attack us again. Right?”

 

“That is correct but—”

 

“Are the monsters on the moon right now able to come after us?”

 

“I do not believe so,” said Piet, his lips thinning. “They appear to need a critical mass before they can travel through space. And in any case, Lunatic Pandora is still completely inaccessible. No one's going to be moving it any time soon.”

 

'Inaccessible' was putting it mildly. Lunatic Pandora, Tear's Point, and the Crystal Pillar were ground zero for the Lunar Cry and all the biggest and baddest monsters that had come down from the moon had made their home right there, infesting the entirety of the structures and even swooping around in the air around the space. Not to mention that everywhere around the site was toxic and caustic even beyond the ability of Estharian technology to handle, and Laguna had to admit that the Lunatic Pandora probably had the best 'security system' in the entire world.

 

“Since there's no immediate danger, I'm going to take this under consideration,” said Laguna, making Piet open his mouth. “But I don't see anything to worry about at the moment and even less that can be done.”

 

“I'm here to request the funding for a probe,” said Piet, making Laguna's brows raise. “Something that can fly to the moon, scout out the surface, and get better information, especially from where the Beasts launched from. Now that we don't have to worry about Adel's Tomb, we can go up there and really investigate.”

 

“And see if they're being made...”

 

“And see if there's life,” said Piet softly. “Intelligent life.”

 

Laguna rubbed his face. Intelligent life on the moon... Lunar Beasts being manufactured like weapons... It was so much to think about on top of everything else. But that was all that could be done right now, just thinking. Laguna exhaled deeply and pushed the stunning, awe-inspiring matter aside.

 

“Keep me updated if something changes,” said Laguna, making Piet nod. “And... I'll see where in the budget I can put aside money for probe funding. Check back with me in six months, okay?”

 

“Yes, President Loire.” Piet bowed and left. Laguna clapped his hands over his face and indulged in a low growl of irritation and exhaustion that lasted over thirty seconds before getting back to work.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n 1: I started thinking about why someone might think child mercenaries are a good idea, and the only thing I was able to come up with is that “they have a skewed idea of normal”. In this universe, Cid is a gunblade genius and started his training before he even went to school, and at age twelve was enlisted by the Galbadian army before eventually being assigned to the Bastards. He always wanted a normal childhood but had no idea what one of those was like, and he also thought the idea of children being able to defend themselves (especially considering some of the crap he saw in wartime) was of the utmost importance. He sees death as inevitable and around every corner, which is why he's more concerned with people being able to survive rather than get away from deadly things. Cid has seen some shit, y'all. I'm thinking about writing a Cid and Edea prequel story for this particular universe, but it won't be for a while.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	31. Chapter 31

“Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Seifer/jackass/brother...

Happy birthday to you!”

 

“Now light this bitch,” said Raijin, adjusting the final angle of the potato cannon out of the balcony with a gleam in his eye. Seifer saluted, pushed the button on the igniter, and a 'potato' rocketed out of the plastic cannon Raijin had put them through building for the last thirty minutes. Two seconds into launch, the 'potato' exploded into flame and sailed out through the air like a comet before splashing into the ocean a quarter of a mile away. Seifer and Fujin whooped while Raijin grinned and Quistis applauded appreciatively.

 

“How many more of those do we have?” Seifer asked excitedly, his eyes shining. Raijin's job in the engineering firm was way cooler than he'd thought since now Raijin knew how to make all sorts of awesome toys.

 

“You're turning 19, ain't ya?” said Raijin as Fujin and Quistis reloaded and re-primed the cannon respectively. Impulsively Seifer hugged Raijin, making the older man laugh.

 

“Best brother,” said Seifer in a throbbing voice.

 

“Light it up,” Fujin said, her eye gleaming as Quistis screwed the end of the potato cannon back on. And Seifer grinned like a madman as he complied.

 

It was the end of a _very_ good day. After being left to sleep until noon, Seifer had woken up to the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and then spent most of the day with Fujin and Quistis since Raijin was at work. They wandered around FH and went into weird shopping areas that were halfway between tradition and gentrification, ate any street food that was sold on a stick, and sat on a stairway watching a mother cat move her kittens (she had six of them) from one place to another. Then they went to FH's Wind Park, which was a very large public balcony where people flew their kites, and they all got emotionally invested in a kite-fighting competition when it turned out that one of the competitors had covered her string with broken glass instead of standardized grit to take down her competition. After that they picked up Raijin at his workplace, made small talk with some of his favorite people as his 'brother, sister, and brother's girlfriend' and then went to the FH Aquarium, which was basically a giant glass tube that went down into the ocean and featured a very carefully cultivated environment that local flora and fauna had slowly populated over the last 20 years. By the time they came up it was dark, so they picked up food from Seifer's favorite restaurant and went back to Raijin's place for the real festivities.

 

When Seifer was happy, he was very generous, and so they all took turns firing the cannon until the landlord knocked and told them to quit it before he had to add 'firing a spud gun off the balcony' to the formal list of lease violations. Raijin solemnly swore they would never do it again, and as soon as the door was closed and his footsteps had gone down the hall, Seifer immediately stuffed the last five 'potatoes' into the cannon and they launched them all at once, causing an explosion of white flame and tin shrapnel halfway between the balcony and the ocean.

 

Fortunately there was no one standing below, but just to be safe they disassembled the potato cannon and hid different pieces in each room, giggling like idiots the whole time. Quistis joined in wholeheartedly, her eyes bright and her cheeks pink with the joy of sheer juvenile antics. Among her set of friends, she was Quistis the Dependable, the Smart, the Elegant and Restrained. The Grown-Up. But to Seifer, Fujin, and Raijin, Quistis was the one who nearly started an oil fire during breakfast, the one who had to explain how someone could be 'bowling ball'ed' during sex (not from experience, thankfully), and the one who won the ugly face contest because she could cross her eyes unevenly while pulling back her head and curling her lips. It was freeing and utterly _glorious,_ and Seifer thought seeing Quistis relax and really act her age was one of the best presents anyone could ever ask for.

 

They stayed up until about midnight, when Raijin eventually had to beg off to sleep and go to work the next day; they were in the middle of a New Year celebration project and Raijin had been promoted to help with the installation, which was exciting but also tiring. Fujin also had to turn in because Raijin had scored her an interview at the firm and while she wasn't completely onboard with engineering, she was intrigued by the idea of using her wind lore to make a living. Seifer was still largely nocturnal, however, so when they went to bed, he looked at Quistis and said, “Take a walk?”

 

“It's the middle of the night.”

 

“So? It's quiet.”

 

They went out. Quistis seemed somewhat mystified and Seifer didn't blame her; she probably thought he'd try to jump her on his birthday. And he was planning to later. But right now he wanted to just _be,_ and walks were always good for that. Not for the first time Seifer mused on the irony of liking walking and hating running, but it was not (usually) fun to run and hold hands. Comfortable in silence, they wandered through the darker, less-populated areas of Fisherman's Horizon. Seifer led Quistis to a hard-to-reach broken-off area of the main structure that must had been bashed off when Balamb Garden had impacted FH. Still unfixed, it nevertheless opened up to have a great view of the ocean and the moon glittering in the sea. At this time of night the sky and sea were almost indistinguishable from each other, both of them dark and glinting with hundreds of thousands of little lights. Seifer sat down on a broken-off I-beam, his legs dangling precariously into space, while Quistis stood on the bent structure and looked at him. His face was still and contemplative, neither happy nor unhappy. It was a thoughtful look that most people probably would not have ever thought Seifer Almasy could have, but Quistis was getting used to being surprised by him.

 

“I wonder how many more birthdays I have left.”

 

…case in point.

 

“Why?” Quistis asked. “I mean, the number is finite to begin with. Why worry about it?”

 

“I don't want to outlive the people I care about,” said Seifer, looking up at the sky. “But then I think that means they'd outlive me, and... I don't want them to feel that bad either.”

 

“It's a consequence of loving others.”

 

“Consequence...” Seifer repeated. He chuckled softly. “I like that better than 'price'. You're the only person in the world who makes the word 'consequence' sound neutral, you know. From everyone else it sounds like a punishment.”

 

“Probably because people fear both of them.”

 

“Yeah... That's fair.” He turned around and noted her position on the I-Beam with a little chuckle. “Why don't you sit down? A stiff breeze is going to knock you over.”

 

“I prefer to keep something under my feet.”

 

“Yeah, but if you fall, I can't catch you.”

 

Quistis cocked her head, a small smile touching her lips, and she took a few steps down the I-Beam before sitting down next to Seifer. He shifted his position so he was sitting next to her instead of with his back to her, and for a while they held hands and said nothing. Seifer took silent comfort in her presence, the warmth of her body, the utter lack of demands and even desire at the moment. Uncertainty about the future and life were rolling in his chest. He was 19 now. In another year he might be 20. Where would he be? What might he be doing?

 

“ _What am I going to become?”_

 

The easy, shallow answer was 'the best mercenary ever', but subjective standards aside, it was a boast. Something to say he was doing. He was empty of dreams these days—not emotion, not happiness, but something to strive for and burn himself up doing. He had no... Passion. It was odd to think about and probably should have been frightening, but coming off a wonderful day and a great party and sitting together with the woman he loved, being relaxed was not so bad. Still, they wouldn't be with him forever. He couldn't count on them just in case something happened. Seifer never wanted to be a wreck over the loss of a single person again.

 

Seifer was aware of Quistis's warmth pressing against his personal boundaries, and as he felt her lips touch against the angle of his jaw, he couldn't help but lean into the contact. He was still surprised she was here and had taken the whole two weeks to be with him. It was different for him; he literally had nothing better to do. But she had a job and all her friends hated him and wanted him dead—

 

(except not really, but so much had happened and they weren't family anymore no matter how sweet the fleeting memories were)

 

—and Seifer didn't believe for one second that she didn't have more sensible prospects waiting back home. SeeDs or support staff or even civilians who would treat her nicely and match everyone else's standards for suitability. Seifer knew he was the unsafe choice, the one whose very existence could destroy everything she'd worked for and the entire institution that had raised them both. Mere rumors that they'd been involved had chased her away from a life she'd really enjoyed and put her back into one where she was merely useful. And yet Quistis had chosen to be here, giving herself to him and smiling and laughing in a way that he couldn't ever remember seeing around other people. God, he loved her so much. Everything that was essential about him seemed to yearn toward her like a plant reaching for the sun; how she matched his temper, how she was just as stubborn as he was. How she let him see the flaws bethind her diamondlike brilliance and in return, did not strike into his soft places when he couldn't defend himself anymore. It was a little pathetic and a lot frightening if Seifer thought about it. He didn't _want_ to need a woman again. Not Edea, not Ultimecia, not even Quistis...

 

“ _I don't_ need _her. But I really, really want her and it almost feels the same.”_

 

“I love you,” he said, eyes closed, basking in her nearness and the soft touch of her lips on his skin.

 

“I love you too,” she murmured back.

 

Seifer opened his eyes and looked at Quistis immediately. He had gotten used to saying the phrase without hearing anything in return, and for a second he thought he had hallucinated out of his own wanting.

 

“ _Did you really say that?”_ he thought, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Why?”

 

“You're loyal,” she said, stroking his cheek. “And loving. And patient and kind when you think something is worth the trouble. You're enthusiastic about everything and you live in the moment, and even when you're quiet and introspective, you're still pushing yourself to move on. You're not afraid to admit you've made mistakes, even if you don't know what to do about them. And...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“You're dynamite in bed,” she said with a little twinkle in her eye, and Seifer laughed aloud.

 

“Rank A and don't you forget it,” he said, joy bubbling under a layer of pure amusement. He nudged her with his shoulder and said, “It only took you two whole months to say it after I did.”

 

“I... I sort of wanted to save it,” she admitted, looking down at the ground hundreds of feet below. “For a time when it would make you as happy as the first time you ever said it to me.”

 

“It scared the crap out of you the first time I said it,” Seifer said bluntly.

 

“Yes, well...” Quistis sputtered a bit, making Seifer snicker. “I was still happy.”

 

“Uh huh... Liar.”

 

“I'm not lying.”

 

“Sure you aren't.”

 

“I can push you off this I-beam.”

 

“I'll drag you down with me.”

 

Quistis eyed him, a sly smile on her lips, and she nudged his side in a playful, kittenish way he was happily getting used to. Seifer looped his arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips. Welcome warmth seemed to ease the tightness that had been settling in his chest and the soft, shivery sound Quistis made when their lips touched set the warmth just a little hotter. He could feel her trembling even as she reached up and curled her fingers into his collar, pulling him close, and a soft wave of sensation seemed to roll over and soak into him. It was subtle and undeniable and apparently infectious, because Quistis made a noise halfway between a sigh and a moan and Seifer felt her fingertips dip down along the neckline of his shirt, tugging on the fabric like she wanted to pull it off.

 

“ _Is this real?”_ Seifer suddenly wondered. As Quistis ran her fingertips down his chest, Seifer thought, _“I remember thinking that I wanted to hear 'I love you' as a birthday present. What are the odds? What if I imagined the whole thing? And if I did, am I imagining anything else? ...Where am I, really?”_

 

God, what a horrifying thing to think. Seifer shoved the possibility away with both hands and in the real world, busied himself with physical sensation. Hallucinations didn't have this wealth of detail when it came to how beautifully Quistis responded to his touch. He knew he couldn't possibly imagine some of the little subtle noises she made, and in his own fantasies Seifer knew that Quistis would have already been tearing at his clothes instead of touching him oh-so-gently like she was doing now. Little things, little things that were more or less wonderful or expected helped ground Seifer in reality. If he was hallucinating, wouldn't everything be perfect?

 

Still fighting a sense of creeping unreality, Seifer eased back onto the main scaffolding with Quistis and

jerked a bit when something poked him in the back of the leg. When he looked down (making Quistis grab the back of his shirt in alarm), he saw a bent nail that he'd stuck his leg onto at just the right angle. It hadn't broken the skin, but the little sharp shock came as a relief. This was real. This was happening.

 

“ _She_ does _love me. I can believe it.”_

 

“Are you bleeding?” Quistis asked, no doubt worried about tetanus or something.

 

“I'm fine,” said Seifer, pulling away from the nail and focusing all his attention where it needed to be. Quistis blushed as he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheekbones, letting himself be lost in the way moonlight played against her face. “Everything's perfect,” he said, smiling with the truth of it. Perfection was not hallucination's realm alone.

 

Quistis was extra cuddly on the walk back, holding his arm and resting her head against his shoulder. She was so happy, or so it seemed.

 

“ _How many more birthdays am I going to have with you?”_ Quistis wondered that night as Seifer drifted off, the warmth of his skin soothing her to sleep. His arm was around her waist and she clasped his hand to bring it up over her heart, feeling his fingers twitch a little in his dreams. _“How many more New Years? How many more days? How many more moments like these before they end, like all moments do? Well... I suppose we'll just have to make as many as we can... Until we can't anymore. For whatever reason.”_

 

/\

 

Seifer woke up in the middle of the night feeling thirsty, so he extracted himself from bed, went to the kitchen, and got a glass of water. The night was cool and silent with peaceful moonlight streaming in through the sliding glass door. Seifer yawned and spaced out a while in the kitchen, reflecting on his life and the present he was living.  
  
 _“Am I actually allowed to be this happy?”_ Seifer wondered _._ He deserved to be, he felt that in his bones, but... Was he really going to be? It wasn't fair, was it? So many people had lived perfectly nice, boring lives that had ended in a crash of metal or Lunar Beasts raining down from the sky, all of it having been done on his word, and here Seifer was, hanging out in a friend's apartment with his three most favorite people, alive and fed and looking forward to the future. Was that wrong?

 

It seemed like too much to think about, not to mention unpleasant on top of everything he'd been thinking of earlier. Seifer went back to the bedroom already anticipating the soft warmth of his girlfriend at his side, but when he entered, Quistis was sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

 

“Where'd you go?” She asked him.

 

“Not far,” he told her, climbing back into bed. She sleepily held her arms out and pulled him close, and as Seifer lay down she started kissing him, her movements languid with sleep and growing desire. Seifer surrendered to her insistence, not that he objected in the least. In the soft and dark silence of midnight, it felt perfect and unspeakably intimate to make love in this slow and gentle way, no needs or demands getting in the way of enjoying each other's presence. Seifer ran his hands through Quistis's soft, long hair and caressed her face, feeling her sigh as he ran his hand down her neck. When their mutual desire turned from a warm simmer to something more urgent, Seifer sat up to better see the picture she made and was vaguely aware that his hand was still on her neck. That was weird. But Quistis seemed to like it or at least she didn't tell him to take it off, so he put his other hand on her neck and she sighed, arching into his touch. Seifer mentally shrugged. So she was into choking, who knew. He kind of liked being able to control exactly what she was feeling and how she could move. He saw her eyelashes fluttering and wondered if he was pushing too hard, because he could actually feel her neck in his hands, her pulse like a bird trying to get free from his palms.

 

So Seifer tried to open his hands and let go, and found to his creeping horror that he couldn't. In fact, the very idea seemed to make him grip _harder._

 

“ _What the fuck is happening?”_ He thought, a slow terror starting to poison his veins as he couldn't stop himself from moving, from gripping, and he couldn't even cry out in horror as Quistis started to look panicked, her eyes coming awake with fear. She pulled at his hands but he couldn't stop squeezing and she started to choke, the ugly sounds making Seifer go cold all over with fear and horror. And yet he _still_ couldn't let go, even as Quistis started hitting him and striking at his face with hammerlike blows that should have knocked him out. He felt the impacts go through him like ripples through water. And worse, the force seemed to feed down his arms to increase the sensation in his hands, and Seifer gasped as he saw blood welling out from his fingertips. They had become clawed and purple. 

 

“What the fuck,” he wept as Quistis choked and died slowly in his hands, her eyes never leaving his. “Why...?”

 

“You know why,” murmured the awful voice that was in the background of all his nightmares. “Did you _really_ think I would let any other woman put her mark on you? Look at her, my knight. Look how she dies.”

 

“No!”

 

“Look at what her love for you brings her.”

 

“NO!”

 

“And dead women are with you forever, aren't they? Forever loyal. Forever perfect. _Too good to be true.”_

 

In the waking world, Quistis woke up when Seifer literally kicked her out of bed. She snapped awake at the first impact and with supreme proprioception braced herself before she slammed unmercifully into the floor. Shocked, she surged up and found Seifer wrenching in his sleep, clearly in the grip of a nightmare. Unnervingly his eyes were open but unseeing and the firelight rings around his dilated pupils were actually throwing off light, which was eerie to say the least. Quistis had the feeling he wasn't going to wake up through normal means, so she forewent calling his name and grasped his shoulder instead. The bunching of muscles under her palm was all the warning she got before Seifer's arm shot out, but just enough motion had been telegraphed that Quistis automatically twisted and Seifer's fist clipped her ribs instead of landing solidly in her stomach. Before he could draw back to strike again, Quistis trapped his arm against her side and kept shaking him. Grimly she thought this was one hell of a nightmare.

 

The door opened and Quistis looked up to see Fujin and Raijin looking in, worried but not particularly alarmed.

 

“Oh good, you got the punching over with already,” said Raijin lightly, sidling into the room. She saw a small electric spark gather in his hand. “Maybe this won't hurt today.”

 

“Maybe,” said Fujin, bracing.

 

“What are you doing?” Quistis asked, alarmed.

 

“If he's having a nightmare like this, you gotta snap him out of it with a little shock,” said Raijin, his voice thoroughly unenthusiastic. It was the voice of grim experience. “But ya can't just poke him with a stick. He gets _super_ freaked out if he can't tell what hit him. Look out.”

 

Raijin tapped Seifer on his trapped shoulder and barely managed to leap back as Seifer's free hand swung out in a haymaker. As Raijin accidentally threw himself into the wall with a curse, Seifer blinked and focus came back into his eyes. It seemed like he didn't know where he was for a second because he looked around, utterly bewildered, chest heaving, before his gaze landed on Quistis. He stared at her for a long second, not saying anything and gradually the unsteady light in his eyes eased. Quistis held his hand and smiled at him, trying not to be hurt that he stared at her like she wasn't real. After a long moment Seifer exhaled hard and sat up. He looked around and saw Fujin and Raijin looking at him in concern, which made him shoot them a shaky smile. But no words came out of his mouth.

 

“Water?” Fujin asked softly.

 

“Yeah,” Seifer whispered, licking dry lips. “It's okay, I'll get it.”

 

Fujin patted him on the head and left. Raijin folded his arms and exhaled, his lips thinning to nearly nothing.

 

“You gonna be okay?” The darkskinned man asked, unconsciously glancing at Quistis and Seifer both.

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, his gaze dropping to the sheets as he curled his hands into fists. “I'll be fine. I've never had two in a night before.”

 

Fujin came back with water, and everyone watched Seifer drain the cup before Fujin took the glass back. He was still pale and sweating a bit, but nobody knew what to ask. Seifer raked his hands through his hair, and when irritation started to replace his shivering, Fujin and Raijin exchanged silent glances.

 

“It's just nightmares, man,” said Raijin, giving Seifer a squeeze on the shoulder before leaving. Fujin again gave Seifer that little head-pat, giving Quistis one last look before she left. Quistis recognized the look as one of concern; her friends had all looked at her that way at one time or another, but usually they had been worried _for_ her. Was Fujin worried about her? Did she have to be?

 

“Did I hurt you?” Seifer asked, looking at her with wretched anxiety.

 

“You kicked me out of bed,” she said, laying her hand on his. “Nothing serious. What were you dreaming about?”

 

“I don't...” He swallowed hard, looking terrified. “I can't...”

 

“ _Maybe it had something to do with me,”_ Quistis thought in mixed consternation and pain. Aloud she said, “You don't have to say it if you don't want to. But if talking helps, I'll listen.”

 

Seifer nodded numbly. He could still feel the slender column of Quistis's neck cracking in his hands. He hated that it wasn't just his imagination. For a second he was back in Lunatic Pandora, all the more terrifying for the fact that enchantment had started to give way to delusion, and he remembered telling himself over and over that choking Quistis to death was the right thing because the things she'd been telling him were too good to be true... What kind of woman was she, to forgive him for trying to kill her so terribly? What kind of man was he, that he still believed that awful thought in some hidden corner of his mind?

 

“Quistis...”

 

“Yes, Seifer?”

 

“You'd... You'd never let me kill you, right?”

 

“...No, Seifer,” said Quistis, stunned. Didn't he have scars that proved otherwise all over his arms and legs? “Never.”

 

“You'd defend yourself, right?” He seemed to be begging for an answer. “You'd... You shot me in the heart once. You'd do it again, wouldn't you? If I wasn't... Would you—”

 

Quistis kissed him softly but warmly, the silken press of her lips seeming to ease the fear rattling in his chest.

 

“I will defend myself to the full extent of my abilities,” Quistis whispered, touching his face. “Beyond that, don't ask me anymore.”

 

Seifer nodded, swallowing. He felt pathetic and at the same time pitifully grateful. Fujin and Raijin had never been able to promise anything even close. He hated that he couldn't trust himself like he'd used to.

 

“ _One day I'll trust myself all the time instead of most of the time. One day I'm not going to be afraid of pictures in the dark that feel like the future, or more real than reality itself.”_

 

But today wasn't that day. Seifer bowed his head and let the tears and fears rattle out of him as Quistis hugged him and rubbed his back. Fucking nightmares.

 

“I'm going to sleep on the couch,” he told her, feeling only a little bad as she looked pained. “It's just too soon right after right now.”

 

“I understand,” said Quistis quietly. “But you don't have to feel like you have to protect me against you either. Or that you have to hide away.”

 

“This isn't about protection,” said Seifer, though knowing he couldn't roll over and kill Quistis in his sleep was definitely a weight off his mind. “I just need to be by myself and I don't want to kick you out of the bed.”

 

“You had the nightmare,” said Quistis, sliding out of bed. “You should sleep in the bed. It's better for you.”

 

“I'll be fine on the couch,” said Seifer, sliding out too. “I slept on that thing all the time before I moved out.”

 

“Seifer...”

 

“Just let me do this for me,” he said, his voice unconsciously sharpening. “I don't need to be watched over. I can handle this by myself.”

 

Quistis looked at him for a long moment, wondering whether to push, before sighing and shaking her head. She knew the demands of fragile, all-important pride very well. “Fine, sleep on the couch. But remember what I said about nightmares, okay?”

 

Oh thank god, she wasn't going to be a pain about this. Seifer kissed her on the lips, the warmth of her lips loosening the tension that still thickened his veins. She was warm and sweet and so alive, and he was so glad that he hadn't done anything to her in his sleep. That damn nightmare had been _way_ too real. Dressing in light clothes, Seifer went out to the living room and took a spare blanket out of the linen closet before settling down on the couch to sleep. Emotionally exhausted, it nevertheless seemed to take him hours to ease off into a dreamless slumber and inside the bedroom, Quistis stared up at the ceiling and felt more helpless than she could ever remember in a rather long time.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: The trope of love being the end-all, be-all, cure-all has always irritated me. Complex problems are not so easy to patch, and those without love for whatever reason deserve to be healed too.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	32. Chapter 32

There was a lot of giggling coming out of the room that Quistis and Seifer were sharing, which made Raijin slurp his tea pointedly and Fujin roll her eyes. Both of them had changed into swimsuits already and were waiting on the other two so they could all go sailing. Raijin and Seifer had rented catamarans and were going to have a race around FH since the weather was good and the wind was right. The loser owed the winner a hundred gil, except it wasn't going to be much of a race if one team never came out of the bedroom. As the giggling became ominously quieter, Raijin looked flatly at Fujin, who smirked and blew hard. Inside the bedroom, Seifer was pulling down the top of Quistis's new swimsuit, hazed with desire, when Fujin seemed to say right in his ear, “RACING TIME.”

 

“Gah!” Seifer jerked, clapping his hand over his ear. Her wind lore tickled like a bee in his ear canal, making him swear and rub the side of his head. “I hate it when she does that.”

 

“It's just as well,” said Quistis somewhat breathlessly, pulling her swimsuit back into place and then getting off the bed to re-tie her sarong into a dress. She _had_ been ready to leave on time before Seifer had innocently asked if she wanted help with anything, and from there things had gone... Not as planned. “We're going to be late.”

 

Seifer grumbled but got up off the bed and pulled on a shirt. “And what am I supposed to do with this,” he muttered, gesturing down at his hips. His short trunks had _some_ room, but not a lot. Quistis eyed the obvious measure of his lust with a tremble of her own, absently licking her lips.

 

“WALK IT OFF,” came the phantom voice again, this time loud enough for Quistis to hear. And Quistis burst out laughing as Seifer swore and rubbed his ear.

 

Several minutes later they were on the train to the other side of Fisherman's Horizon. Quistis had never thought of FH as a popular tourist destination before, but with travel to Esthar now open, there were all sorts of people whose needs and money were expanding the hippie enclave into something more commercial. And at some point, New Year had turned into something that was not to be missed at FH.

 

“See, they set off fireworks from buoys all around FH and when they go off, you see them exploding them in the sea and sky at the same time. I helped install the rigs this year,” said Raijin, looking very proud of himself.

 

“Cool,” said Fujin, her eye shining. Her interview had gone very well; between her natural intelligence and tech skills, Raijin's glowing recommendation, and her wind lore, Fujin had been hired on the spot and was due to start the first day of the new year. She was going to be working with the aerodynamicists and had lately been reading aeronautic theory texts every day, which was quite a change from her initial reluctance.

 

“Yeah, they're doing an office party so we can catch all our hard work go up in smoke,” said Raijin, grinning as the group laughed. To Seifer and Quistis he asked,“You guys wanna come? Fujin's going 'cuz she needs to meet people, but if you two wanna hang out by yourselves...”

 

“I should stay away from the scene of the crime,” said Seifer, touching the necklace of braided camera-shy fabric he'd made for quick wear. Raijin nodded in understanding as Seifer looked at Quistis and said, “You don't mind, do you? If you're looking for a party, I'm sure we can crash some around town.”

 

“Anything will be fine,” said Quistis, amused. “I've never celebrated New Year with anyone other than Xu and her family, so everything will be interesting.”

 

“You and Xu are pretty close, huh?” Raijin asked as the train slowed. It was not their stop, so the four of them pressed close to the pole as people exited and more squished on, compressing everyone even more.

 

“Yes,” said Quistis, missing the somewhat annoyed look on Seifer's face. “She was always very supportive and protective of me, especially when I first started out. She once told me that if it weren't for her family's finances, she would have adopted me.”

 

“Huh?” Seifer looked at Quistis in shock. “She would have?”

 

Quistis nodded. “But it's in our contract; SeeDs are forbidden to adopt, get married, or have children since we might leave orphans behind. And even with the money she was sending home, they couldn't prove to the Dean that they'd be able to care for me just as well if not better than the Garden would. Xu's family... Well, at the time, they were very poor. They're doing fine now since Xu is the headmaster, but...” She shrugged. “Oh well.”

 

Seifer's lips thinned. He didn't think he would ever _like_ Xu, but no wonder she was as bitchy and driven as she was if she was her family's sole provider. That was a lot of pressure in an already stressful field.

 

The catamarans were being rented from a boat place that specialized in catering to tourists, and apparently the cats were so rarely checked out that the owner gave Raijin and Seifer discounts for actually taking the things. He quizzed them briefly to make sure they actually knew how to sail, gave them all lifejackets, and then told them to go out and have fun. Quistis looked at the lifejacket somewhat dubiously.

 

“Are we going to need these?” She asked as they walked toward the boats.

 

“Cats go fast,” said Raijin, strapping his on. It had taken the owner a while to locate one large enough to go around Raijin's massive upper body and even then, the extension belts were at their max. The neon orange color seemed even more shocking against his dark skin as Raijin said, “If you fall off, we're probably gonna be outta sight before we realize something's happened.”

 

“Just pay attention and you'll be okay,” said Fujin to Quistis. “The boys don't sail that hard.”

 

“Not compared to you,” Seifer said to Fujin archly, making the one-eyed woman chuckle. To Quistis he said, “She cheats with her wind lore so she's flying a hull ALL the time.”

 

“Flying a hull?”

 

Seifer gestured with his hands. “You know how catamarans have two hulls? She gets up on the edge of just one of them and just _zooms.”_

 

“I wanna sail with a spinnaker,” said Fujin, her eye gleaming. “Or a hydrofoil.”

 

“There's one with both,” said Raijin, pointing at a ship with a sagging front sail and what looked like legs going into the water. Fujin ooh'ed, her excitement making her look younger than she'd ever done back in the Garden. Her swimsuit only aided the image, though truthfully she was not wearing a suit; she was instead wearing a shortsleeved, high-necked rashguard that hid her scarred neck from view and tight athletic shorts for better coverage. She looked very sporty. In contrast, Quistis was wearing a purple suit with a keyhole front (which made Seifer's eyes light up delightfully every time he looked at her cleavage), and while her suit wasn't particularly impractical, Quistis was worried. Just how hard did the boys sail and what did that mean?

 

They stashed their things in the catamaran hulls and went out onto the open water after checking all the lines. Not knowing what to do, Quistis stayed out of the way as Seifer set the tiller and the lines the way he liked them. The quick and easy confidence in his movements made Quistis smile fondly, as well as the sight of the new tattoo on his left shoulder. He'd just come back with it two days ago and while it looked like a stylized view of the moon reflecting into the ocean, she recognized the tree-lined canal and the broken I-beam where they'd each said 'I love you' for the first time. She was honestly shocked he'd chosen to put those particular moments on his skin until he'd told her that it was about the best personal moment of his post-Ultimecia life, just like the SeeD-symbol-in-flames tattoo on his right shoulder was about overcoming and not hating the Garden. Quistis had never had any particular feelings about tattoos before (aside from making bodies easy to identify) but seeing the living art on Seifer's skin was making her have second thoughts.

 

“ _Besides, if I ever have to junction again and run the risk of losing my memories, putting what's most important to me on my body might not be such a bad thing. GF's don't entirely destroy the memories, but they do make them very hard to access and physical reminders seem to work the best when it comes to jogging those thoughts again.”_

 

But she didn't have Seifer's certainty when it came to picking out a design and committing to it. What did she consider important enough not to lose?

 

“Alright,” said Seifer, making her look up. “We're probably not going to have to do this today, but if the wind picks up and we really start flying, you're gonna have to hike out.”

 

“Hike out?”

 

Seifer kicked one of the straps sewn onto the trampoline. “Hook your feet in and lean out,” he said, demonstating briefly. “Keeps the boat in the water. I'll tell you if we have to do it. In the meantime, stay in the front and get ready to move back and forth across the tramp as soon as I yell. I'm _winning_ this thing.”

 

Quistis laughed at the competitive gleam in his sea-green eyes, the firelight rings burning with ambition. “You really want that hundred gil, don't you?”

 

“I want the victory,” he clarified. “But I'll use the gil for something fun.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“A bikini for you,” he said, grinning, and Quistis laughed at the lascivious look on his face.

 

The wind was brisk and moved them out past FH in very short order. Quistis sat on one of the hulls next to Seifer and saw Fujin and Raijin sailing a short distance away from them. Raijin was sitting towards the back, his greater weight making the boat sink a little deeper into the water, and like Seifer he was holding both tiller and the lines.

 

“First buoy!” Raijin shouted, pointing at a bright orange structure that bobbed in the ways. “Starting on the left!”

 

“Here we go,” said Seifer, grinning as he steered the boat around. At once Quistis felt the catamaran pick up speed and she started to get a little nervous. Seifer had a devil-may-care recklessness all but shimmering over his skin now, making her hope she wouldn't end up in the water.

 

“START,” Fujin shouted, and at once Seifer and Raijin both tightened up on their lines, snapping the catamaran sails taut. And Quistis yelped as the boat surged forward with a new, harder push of wind. She almost didn't hear Seifer's low, feral-edged chuckle as the slaloming race between the firework buoys began.

 

The catamarans skimmed over the waves, filling Quistis's ears with the deep, rhythmic splash of the ocean. The wind roared in her ears, yanking strands of hair out of the tight braided bun she'd put it in, and light flashed off the waves. It was a beautiful day and Quistis felt her blood stir with happiness and adrenaline, especially the latter as she noticed that Raijin and Fujin were getting closer.

 

“We're going to crash!” She shouted to Seifer.

 

“Like hell,” he snapped, somehow manipulating two lines at once. Quistis yelled as the catamaran took a sharp right and whipped around the orange buoy, just barely missing Raijin and Fujin's craft as he took the first curve. “Ha!”

 

“Dumbass!” Raijin shouted back, sounding gleeful. And it wasn't hard to see why, because Seifer cursed as the boat abruptly lost speed.

 

“What happened?” Quistis asked as Seifer swung the catamaran around and Raijin and Fujin passed them, the darkskinned man laughing and Fujin making faces at them.

 

“Too far into the wind. Come on, you dirty rotten—there we go. Switch!”

 

“What?”

 

“Get on the other side! Now!”

 

Seifer was a sharp captain for the duration of the race, barking out orders and completely heedless of how rude he sounded. At first Quistis was shocked, but then reminded herself that this was how he acted too. Back in the Garden when someone couldn't keep up with him, Seifer got annoyed and snappish almost instantly. Many people never saw past that. Quistis remembered thinking the same way, writing off his flares of temper as his entire personality. Now she looked at Seifer with different eyes and heard him with more open ears, and she quickly realized that as brusque as he was, none of his ire was directed at her; rather, it all had to do with his performance. He would yell in the moments before something needed to be done, but if the moment passed and it hadn't happened, he brushed it off and made do. It was actually a great ability to have in a field commander who needed to get things done fast, and thinking about what Seifer could have been made Quistis feel sad.

 

The wind picked up about halfway around Fisherman's Horizon, forcing Quistis to become more active and start hiking out over the sides of the boat to keep the catamaran from toppling over when Seifer started steering and sailing more aggressively. Fujin and Raijin were doing the same thing, except they worked so well together that the only noises Quistis heard from their ship were hoots and taunts at Seifer for being a dumbass, which made him shout back insults at them as they slalomed between the bright orange buoys, nearly colliding at every turn. Quistis did her best to read the wind signs and the tell-tales on the sails, and the instant they started to flicker in a different way, she would already be moving by the time Seifer shouted to switch. If Seifer noticed her changed movement, he didn't say anything. The yelling, however, decreased.

 

They were about three quarters of the way around FH when Quistis caught a strange ripple in the ocean. The catamaran was flying on one hull at that time and when the wind changed and the craft settled back into the water, Quistis turned to Seifer and said, “Something's coming at us. 2 o' clock.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Right there—” said Quistis as a large red-purple fin suddenly swung up out of the water, the size making her gape. Even over a hundred feet away, it looked like the fin was as tall as she was. “Oh my goodness.”

 

“Fuck,” Seifer muttered. Taking a deep breath, he shouted at Raijin, saying, “Sea Dragon!”

 

“Nice try!” Raijin shouted back from the other catamaran, no more than twenty feet away, but then Fujin stood up on the hull and shaded her eyes. Her face tightened and she looked down at Raijin, who swore. “Size?”

 

“Too damn big,” Seifer shot back.

 

With catlike balance Fujin stood on the trampoline of her craft and dropped into a low, martial-arts-like stance. Wind seemed to whirl around her hands and the catamaran jerked as it surged forward. Seifer handed the lines to Quistis, making her stare.

 

“Just keep the sails tight and the tell-tales flying back towards us,” said Seifer, taking the tiller alone. As the Sea Dragon's fin appeared again, this time alarmingly close, Seifer said, “Leave the steering up to me. Hopefully it's curious rather than hungry.”

 

With Fujin's wind lore pushing them on, Raijin and Seifer took their boats up on the edges of their hulls and then up on one each, making the boats fly like white birds over the waves as they sped away from the incoming dragon. Seifer was silent and focused, leaving Quistis to fight with the lines in silence. She gripped the salt-soaked ropes hard, concentrating on those instead of the incoming fiend behind them. It was one thing to fight a dragon on land, fully junctioned and with the golden death of Save the Queen in her hand. But in open water, unarmed, Quistis had no illusions about her ability to battle, let alone kill a dragon of unknown size and strength. Fear pulsed like a thin thread throughout her veins, insulated by adrenaline and purpose. On the other hand, she had been working hard with her blue magic, so maybe...

 

“ANOTHER!” Fujin shouted, making Quistis stop breathing momentarily.

 

“For fuck's sake,” Seifer swore. “Hey, Quistis.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“How easy is it for you to shoot lasers and shit?”

 

“I can try,” said Quistis, pushing her worries off to the side. She handed the lines over as Seifer reached out and started to concentrate, calling on the monster parts of her soul. One particular soul seemed to reach back as she looked for something with speed and power, and as the electric crackle of a Blitz filled her mind and body, blue flames like alcohol fires started to shimmer over her skin. Seifer unconsciously leaned away as the air around her began to ripple with a heat that registered to his skin as inimical.

 

They had turned and were sailing for the closest dock, and as the Ray Bomb skill charged up in Quistis's chest, there was no room for fear as she saw _three_ Sea Dragons rise up out of the ocean, their beady eyes focused on the fleeing boats. Now that they were out of the water, Quistis recognized the massive sea serpents as the perennial pests that occasionally buzzed Balamb Town, forcing all boats to dock until they had passed. She wasn't sure why it hadn't occurred to her before that Sea Dragons wouldn't also be in the waters around FH, because surely they had to be somewhere when they weren't terrorizing Balamb Island.

 

“Hold steady,” said Quistis, her voice sounding hollow in her ears as she willed her power into her eyes. Seifer nodded and then leaned back as far as he could as light collected around her face, blurring out her features like the sun itself was about to shine from her skin. The air around her seemed to shimmer and then explode as a beam of light snapped out from her eyes, scoring across all three Sea Dragons' faces.

 

“Oh what the fuck,” Seifer muttered, barely seeing any sort of damage on the massive beasts.

 

“Wait for it,” said Quistis, her voice still hollow with the holding of her power.

 

Boiling bubbles of flesh and blood suddenly warped the skin under the dragons' throats, making Seifer whistle and then swear as they exploded, flinging gore that the boat just barely managed to escape. Nevertheless Sea Dragons were tough: none of them had been killed, only injured, and though one dragon turned and dipped below the waves, the two bigger ones started barfing up a white foam that Seifer knew had regenerative properties.

 

“They're healing up,” he told Quistis, glancing at her. The blue fires had disappeared and she was rubbing her temples, but she didn't look particularly tired.

 

“Let's try this, then,” she said, hugging herself. As Seifer watched, six white dots started to glow over her skin and he managed to lean back just in time as white lasers flared from Quistis's chest, making the air shriek as they blasted toward the Sea Dragon on the right. All six columns pierced the dragon through, two in each eye and two more piercing between them to strike the brain. The armor plating in the Dragon's skull was too thick for the central shot to work, but the dragon sank beneath the waves with a roar of pain, more white foam bubbling from its mouth to heal its eyes. Which left only one Dragon and it looked _pissed._

 

“Man, hurry up!” Raijin shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. He and Fujin had reached the nearest dock, which was an industrial one used for fishing and reinforced with steel. Sailors and fisherman were either running away or getting their weapons out, aiming everything at the last Sea Dragon with grim looks on their weatherbeaten faces. Meanwhile Fujin kept swirling her hands in strange circular patterns that coaxed the wind around Seifer's catamaran to blow even faster, making him strain to hold onto the lines. Quistis swayed and nearly fell off the boat, her head pounding from pulling out two skills in such rapid succession.

 

“I got it!” Seifer shouted as the dock came near. He yanked the tiller to the right hard and dropped the lines, making Fujin clap her hands and cut off her wind lore as sharply as though she'd used a knife. The catamaran clapped down onto both hulls and swept around in an arc, banging off the dock, but Seifer was already prepared and jumping off the boat, dragging Quistis along by one hand. She caught the edge of the dock and pulled herself up, shaking the stars from her eyes as the posse stood at the end of the dock and looked at the enraged Sea Dragon coming for them.

 

“Firefall?” Raijin suggested, like they were talking lunch options.

 

“THUNDERSTRIKE.”

 

“Storm of the Century,” said Seifer, making the two look at him in surprise. “What? Can you think of a better time to try it out?”

 

“It's not _that_ far away,” said Raijin, gesturing.

 

“Not if you keep talking!”

 

“Man...” Raijin rubbed the back of his head, but Fujin was already going back into her low-stanced, swirling dance. Wind started to whirl around her hands and feet, almost visible as it sucked up seawater and detritus from the dock.

 

“What's going on?” Quistis asked, getting to her feet.

 

“Hang onto your hat,” said Seifer, rubbing his hands. “This is gonna be sweet.”

 

“If it works,” Raijin grumbled. “The timing's a dirty rotten bitch. AND we're unarmed.”

 

“It's all lore, what do you care?”

 

“I like having my staff to focus, ya know? Doesn't feel the same.”

 

“TIME,” said Fujin shortly, snapping her palms sharply out to the side. The wind around them vanished as a cyclone fifty feet tall whirled up around the Sea Dragon's head and neck, seemingly stunning the beast into staying still. The column of wind and water was huge and nearly distracted Quistis from how Fujin bent over and rested her hands on her knees, panting. Meanwhile Raijin was taking deep breaths like a bellows, his massive chest expanding and contracting to ridiculous degrees, and like charging up a dynamo, more and more hair-fine threads of white lighting crackled to life over his skin until he was blazing like a bolt of lightning itself. With a roar Raijin pointed at the Sea Dragon and all the lightning exploded and out of him in a column that looked to be at least a foot thick, and when it hit Fujin's whirling cyclone, the massive beast roared with pain as lightning turned it into a flickering beacon of flesh and bone. Raijin fell back on his behind, grey under his tan and gasping for air.

 

Alarmed, Quistis looked at Seifer. He was gripping his hands in front of his face in a parody of prayer, tongues of flame boiling out from his arms and sides. There was a grin on his face that reminded Quistis of the bad old days, but before she could register being afraid, Seifer yanked his hands apart to seemingly _pull_ a basketball-sized ball of flame into existence. With a shout, he hurled it directly at the cyclone of wind and lightning. Like a shooting star the flame rocketed toward the combination of powers and Quistis jumped as the structure ignited like a white phosphorus grenade, filling the air with a hideous roaring that brought demons to mind. Underneath the deep rushing of burning air and boiling water came a cry of a dying Sea Dragon, which seemed to rock and rattle the air. Seifer swayed and dropped to his knees, nearly falling off the dock. With all three of the posse down, the impossible blend of powers came apart just in time to reveal a charred Sea Dragon corpse that broke into pieces even as it fell into the sea with thundering crashes.

 

Sailors and fishermen who had been standing ready to fire on the beast instead cheered, and Seifer laughed shakily as he, Fujin, and Raijin pushed themselves into sitting positions. Quistis shook her head, unable to keep from smiling as she saw the grins they were exchanging.

 

“Worth it,” said Seifer happily, pumping his fist in the air.

 

“Timing's still off,” said Raijin.

 

“Woozy,” said Fujin, wiping her forehead. They got to their feet with only a little staggering and were all standing up by the time the fishermen and sailors ran down to thank them.

 

After that it was a seemingly endless set of people sayng congratulations and trying to cajole their life stories from them. Quistis let the posse take center stage and was amused at how easily they made up an entire life out of whole cloth, even disagreeing with each other at certain points so they seemed like real siblings; all three of them were wearing their disguising jewelry and since no one was asking questions, Quistis assumed that they all looked similar to people who didn't know any better. In any case, their talking was an amazing piece of improvisation that reminded Quistis of when Selphie, Rinoa, and Irvine all got together and started chattering on about something, their minds moving so fast that the rest of the group just watched in bemusement. Usually until Zell tried to join in and ended up saying something either so strange or so funny that the conversation broke either way when people started laughing.

 

They managed to escape before press showed up, because it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that a mysterious trio wielding wind, thunder, and fire lore _might_ have something to do with Seifer Almasy and his two dedicated cronies. For added security they split into boy-boy, girl-girl teams on their way back to Raijin's apartment and to Quistis's amusement, Fujin linked their arms together.

 

“You love my blond brother, right?” Fujin asked after they had been walking together for a while.

 

“Yes,” said Quistis, surprised enough by 'blond brother' that she responded honestly.

 

“Good,” said Fujin, nodding. “He loves you too.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Good.” Fujin looked at her sidelong. “Don't betray him. You can break up with him if you need to, but no lies, okay? He's had enough.”

 

Quistis blinked at Fujin and then laughed gently, patting the younger woman's hand. “I know. I wouldn't do that to him.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Does he know you worry like this?”

 

“He does and it makes him mad,” said Fujin carelessly, making Quistis laugh again. “Speaking of mad, are you?”

 

“Me? About what?”

 

“Him. Sometimes he's mean,” said Fujin, looking at her. “I heard him shouting at you on the boat.”

 

“He was shouting _at_ me, not at _me,”_ said Quistis, and to her surprise Fujin smiled.

 

“Yes,” said Fujin, sounding pleased. “Most people don't get that. Or they think think they can't shout back at him, but they can. He respects strength. Courage. Force of mind.”

 

“I know,” said Quistis, amused. “Is there any reason you're telling me all this?”

 

“I like you,” said Fujin, making Quistis startle a bit. “I want you to stick around. So I need to tell you about dumb things he does so he doesn't scare you off.”

 

“He didn't scare me when we were children,” said Quistis dismissively, making Fujin cock her head at her.

 

“It's true?” Fujin asked. “You and him and the others... All together? As children?”

 

Quistis nodded, sighing. “It was a long time ago... And the rest of us are close. I think he could be close with us too, if...”

 

“If things were different,” said Fujin, making Quistis nod and drop her gaze to the ground. “I saw his file. The one you brought from Matron. He was such a fat baby. What was he like when he was small?”

 

“Mm... Much the same,” said Quistis, thinking about how Seifer would put frogs in peoples' beds, steal toys, and one day covered a sleeping older child in sanitary pads, not knowing what they were beyond 'sticky on one side'. At the same time, she remembered one of the older children making Sis cry, and while Squall had been plenty angry, it had been Seifer who had thrown himself at the boy's arm and bit down hard enough to draw blood. Even as a child he had been fiercely protective about what he had considered 'his'... Or maybe 'his family'.

 

Fujin saw Quistis smile unconsciously, her expression soft and warm. Objectively Fujin assessed Quistis, how she interacted not only with Seifer but with Fujin and Raijin too, and silently put a check mark next to Quistis's name in her head, under a column that said 'Sister Material'.

 

/\

 

According to the information from the Garden, Seifer Almasy's kill profile indicated that he couldn't help but be flashy to the point of overkilling his opponents, and investigation around Fisherman's Horizon had indicated a rash of fiery deaths just around the time 'the Captain' had started operating. Add that to the fact that Seifer Almasy had burned someone to death on the plains not too long ago, and 'fire' became a rather significant element of the SeeD search team's criteria. Therefore Alia had set an alert on her devices to tell her whenever unusual murders or deaths related to fire made any sort of news. Nevertheless she didn't expect VANQUISHED DRAGON to be anything like a break in the case.

 

“I feel stupid even bringing this up,” said Alia to Nina, making the leader of their little team frown in confusion. “But it fits the profile. Overkill, fire, he started off in FH and has at least one ally there, plus... Wind and thunder powers took it down too.”

 

“Fujin and Raijin.”

 

“Likely. But not certain.”

 

Nina paced their room. At the moment the search team was operating out of an apartment in Timber, which was chosen as a temporary base because of its placement on the intercontinental rail line and easy access to everywhere else in Galbadia. Silently she tallied the available monies in her head and sighed.

 

“We've got enough for one ticket if we go now,” she said, looking at both Alia and Brount. “If we wait ten days, we can all go...”

 

“But then he could be anywhere, if he's even there,” said Brount, lips thinning.

 

Nina nodded, going back to pacing. “Yeah, yeah... That's it, then. I'm going. You two stay here and keep me posted.”

 

“Nina, you're not thinking about—”

 

“No, I'm not going to fight him, but Alia needs to gather info around the clock and she needs someone watching her back while that happens,” said Nina to Brount. “Meanwhile, Almasy won't recognize me if I change my hair and wear some colored contacts. We didn't interact much in the Garden, so I should be able to get close enough to verify his identity before he notices anything weird.”

 

“But if he does, it's not just going to be him,” said Brount, his brow creasing. “He's also going to be running with Fujin and Raijin and you can't take on three people at once.”

 

“I'm not going to—”

 

“But if it comes down to it,” Brount insisted, making Nina sigh. “Nina, send me. My casting time is less than a quarter of a second and I can flatten 'em all before they can even draw. And aside from Instructor Trepe's class, I've never interacted with Almasy so he'll look right past me.”

 

“No. Your spell set is junctioned for maximum destruction and FH is way too crowded this time of year.”

 

“I can swap some junctions. It'll be fine.”

 

“ _Plus_ you have a personal thing—”

 

Brount's dark skin became even darker as he blushed. “That was almost a year ago—”

 

“As long as you still think Seifer Almasy cost Miss Trepe her job, you're not going after him,” said Nina, making Brount glare. “You nearly ran him down when everything was fine. I don't trust you to keep your cool with everything that's happened since.”

 

“I wasn't going to run him down...” He muttered, looking away.

 

“You were going to stuff a Fire straight down his throat and we both know it,” said Nina firmly. “I'm going to FH to investigate and that's it. You two'll hear from me tomorrow.”

 

Brount folded his arms, and refused to look Nina in the eye. Alia glanced worriedly between her two friends. This was not the first time there had been contention between them about Miss Trepe, though to be fair Brount did not seem to be passionately in love with her anymore. In fact, he hadn't seen her once since her return to the Garden and didn't give any indication that he had once been a most fervent Trepie.

 

Nina took the evening train to Fisherman's Horizon, which was totally packed for New Year. Dressed in casual clothing and prepared for trouble only at the end of the line, the young SeeD was not aware that two International Combat Specialization operative from the Bloodhound Guild followed her discreetly to the train station and secured transport to Fisherman's Horizon in the same compartment. A bare year of experience was no match for sixty combined years of working in the field, and these particular mercenaries had not lived to be as old as they were without being exceptional. Following a single SeeD who was so focused on her mission that she didn't observe her surroundings was practically a cakewalk, though not without its dangers: SeeDs were not spies, but they could destroy like no one's business and there was a lot to be said for youth and the mysterious, terrifying power of junctions.

 

The ride was long but uneventful, and when Nina exited the train, she got something to eat before checking her communications and seeing nothing new from Alia. On the other hand, the local rumor mill was certainly grinding: it didn't take Nina long at all to find someone chatting about the explosive dragon slaying, and although she normally didn't give any credence to fishing stories of any sort, Nina nevertheless pretended she was an aspiring hunter herself who wanted to pick up tips. The old fisherman preened at the opportunity to tell his tale—or rather, his tale of a tale he had heard—and Nina managed to get a certain amount of information.

 

Mature mercenaries, on the other hand, got more.

 

By the time Nina managed to extricate herself and start heading for the docks where the dragonslaying had taken place, the two Bloodhounds had already gotten there and were looking around for clues that might point toward their prey. There were no surveillance cameras on the industrial docks that pointed in the right direction and all witnesses were gone because of New Year celebrations, but there were three distinct power-burns on the dock that showed the rippling associated with lightning and fire, as well as the unnaturally clean and shiny blaze that indicated natural wind lore. Inspecting the dock revealed fresh paint scrapes nearby, and combined with the old fisherman's fleeting description of the slayers sliding in on 'cats', that was enough to make the Bloodhounds go looking for multiple catamarans that might have gotten banged up recently. By the time the sky darkened on the day before New Year's Eve, the Bloodhounds had the name of a young man who'd taken out _two_ catamarans and brought one back with significant paint damage along the one hull. Very interestingly, he had paid in cash and given the name “Lei Gong”... The name of an obscure _lightning god._

 

Armed with this knowledge, the hunt was truly on. If all went well, the Bloodhounds would have not only Almasy but his two peons in hand by the end of the week, along with the nice fat bonuses that came along with such high-profile arrests. It would be a fantastic start to the new year.

 

Alas, it was not meant to be. According to the boat renter's description of Lei Gong, he was a tall and muscular man with very tanned skin, sun-bleached-blonde hair, and while that should have been enough to identify him by since most people in FH were fairskinned and dark-haired, apparently nobody had seen such a man. It was like Lei Gong (and by extension, the three other people he'd gone sailing with) had existed only long enough to rent and return their boats. It was small consolation that the SeeD brat didn't seem to be having much luck...

 

...though on that front, the Bloodhounds were wrong. Though it had taken her a good bit longer, Nina had managed to track down the boat renter too and made the same 'Lei Gong' connection they had. But in Nina's case, she did not query the nearby businesses about anybody tall or muscular or looking a particular way. After all, if Seifer could elude detection for such a long time, Fujin and Raijin probably could too. But something always slipped through even the best of disguises, and none of the Disciplinary Committee had truly excelled in Disguise or Deception.

 

“Excuse me,” she asked these people. “I want to surprise an old friend of mine who moved here, but I haven't seen him since we were little kids and all I really remember is that he says 'ya know' a lot. Does that sound familiar?”

 

Yes, said the shopkeepers. Yes it did. Did she want to know what he'd bought so she could get him a good present? Did she know that he apparently had a girlfriend and another couple as friends? Did she want to know that he probably lived around the train station, judging from the way he laughed about the noise?

 

“Yes, thank you! _That's so very helpful._ ”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: The literal power of friendship! And running away from regular magic classes to figure stuff out on their own.

 

I've done some trimming that hopefully retains the meat of what I want without turning this into a sprawling 100+ chapter monster. I am not 19 anymore, I know how to stick to a point, damn it XP

 

Also I am starting a Seiftis webcomic called “Teacher's Crush” and the first page is on my tumblr. Permalink is http://klepto-maniac0.tumblr.com/tagged/tc/chrono

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	33. Chapter 33

Clicking and scratching at the door lock made Seifer narrow his eyes. At the moment he was sitting in the living room of the apartment, skimming one of Raijin's beloved Pupurun books while Quistis was getting her disguise in place before their night out and knowing the results would be stunning, Seifer didn't mind the wait. But his placid inattention vanished as the increasingly insistent noises went on. Intuition made his hackles rise and Seifer rolled off the couch, mentally summoning his fire lore to be close at hand. It could not be Fujin or Raijin; both of them were out at Raijin's firm to schmooze and celebrate among coworkers and both of them had keys. At best it was someone who had the wrong apartment, but at the worst...

 

Seifer unlocked and opened the door in one fluid motion, ready to commit murder on (or at the very least bellow at) whoever was on the other side of the door, but the sight of a semi-familiar face shocked him into inaction. Underneath a short blonde bob and behind grey contacts was a fellow classmate—a Trepie, he remembered that much—looking up at him from a half-crouched stance, lockpicks in her hands and total lack of recognition in her eyes. She was wearing grey coveralls with a patch reading “Elbis Heating and Cooling”.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Seifer demanded, and as the Trepie—Nina, that was her name—opened her mouth, Seifer blasted through any excuse she might have had with, “You're not heating and cooling because we didn't make a call and the landlord didn't say anyone was coming.”

 

“Got reports of a gas leak,” she said, stealthily stowing the lockpicks as she pulled a convincing-looking work order out of her pocket. Seifer ignored it.

 

“In an electrically-heated complex?” He shot back. He wasn't bluffing, either; he had done a lot of research on FH apartments a while back and remembered the heating as one of the pluses of this place.

 

Nina paled a bit at that refutation but rallied with, “ _Exactly._ It bears some investigation, don't you think?”

 

“ _Like fucking hell it does,”_ thought Seifer wrathfully, but the rest of his mind was taken up with rapid processing. Obviously she didn't recognize him, but why would an old classmate, likely by now a SeeD, be poking around Raijin's apartment unless she was on the hunt? Even worse, Nina was a Trepie and would probably recognize Quistis even in disguise, so she needed to go the fuck away right now. But how to get rid of her? One of the thing Quistis had tried really hard to get Seifer to understand back in Deling City was that if a problem could be solved without stabbing or killing anybody, then his chances of staying undetected were much higher. Personally Seifer thought that the only way to ensure complete silence was to make sure no one was able to talk, but on the other hand this was Raijin's place and killing someone in his doorway was a shit thing to do to an old friend. Seifer also didn't want to deal with Quistis's reaction if he whacked a member of her fanclub while she was less than thirty feet away. 

 

“Look, I just need to take a look around,” said Nina, waving the work order a little. Reinforced combat gloves with metal knuckles flashed over her hands instead of plain work gloves, making Seifer tense up further. He didn't think Nina was looking for trouble, but she was definitely prepared for it and while Seifer could brawl with the best of them, he had no illusions against going up unarmed against a martial artist who was probably hot with GF's and junctions. The only thing he really had was the element of surprise, but even then that only went so far...

 

Meanwhile inside the bathroom, Quistis paused in the middle of pinning on her wig. She had taken a few—the distinctive, arresting red one of course, and also a more nondescript one that made her a short-haired brunette with very heavy bangs. She had heard the door open and Seifer start talking, and something about the person he was talking to seemed familiar... And in this situation, 'familiar to Quistis' probably meant 'bad for Seifer'. Speeding up the last few touches and putting on thick-framed glasses that obscured her face even more, Quistis took a deep breath to steady herself and exited the bathroom. She loved Seifer but had doubts about his ability to de-escalate and prevaricate under stress...

 

Though the sight of  _Nina Hernandez_ standing in the doorway in disguise definitely kicked Quistis's stress into the stratosphere. Underneath a nearly overwhelming layer of shock and terror at being found was a glimmer of admiration for her former student's skills, but it was a small glimmer and one quickly washed away by Quistis's SeeD-brain taking over.

 

“ _She's not attacking. And she looks confused rather than hostile or suspicious, which means she doesn't realize she's facing Seifer. That means we can get rid of her without causing a fuss, hopefully.”_

 

“Oh, good,” she said, making Seifer and Nina both look at her. “Are you here about the water heater?”

 

“No, ma'am,” said Nina, assessing her in the quick way that all SeeD-trained students knew how to do. “Heating and Cooling. Someone called in a gas leak, or rather, smelling gas. I was told to check it out.”

 

“Oh, it's probably the plumbing,” said Quistis, a bit of a wicked idea coming into her head. “The septic tank has been backing up recently and it's _very_ unpleasant.”

 

“The septic tank?” Nina repeated, going a little pale. Seifer's brows rose, but she didn't notice.

 

“Oh yes,” said Quistis, gesturing into the bathroom. “It's just _awful_ in there. Any worse and we'll have to start misusing the sink.”

 

“Hate to break it to you, honey, but, uhh...” Seifer trailed off, not bothering to hide his smirk.

 

“Ugh, you jerk!” Quistis gave him a fake glare and then looked at Nina. “Anyway, as long as you're here, do you think you could do something about the toilet? We just can't flush the thing and I think the contents are starting to ferment, so...”

 

“P-plumbing's really not my—”

 

“Please!” Quistis immediately went over to Nina and at the same time summoned just enough of a Bad Breath skill to keep a concentrated stream of odor in her mouth. Grasping Nina's shoulders, she faced the young woman full on and felt only a little bad as she said breathily, “It's _sooo_ bad in there.”

 

Now Seifer was on the periphery and still caught enough of a smell to twitch, but Nina nearly fainted as the patented putrification of a fully grown adult Marlboro smacked her right in the sinuses. Fortunately Quistis could create the smell without the status effects but even so Nina reeled, eyes watering and nearly retching.

 

“Oh please, it won't take a second,” said Quistis, now starting to pull Nina's arms, and the young SeeD immediately backed up.

 

“Nononono, I'll call plumbing!” Nina coughed, swiping not-so-discreetly at her streaming eyes. “Sorry for wasting your time—”

 

“Yeah, the least you can do is take a look,” said Seifer, reaching for Nina, but she shook her head and ran down the hall. Seifer and Quistis leaned out to make sure she rounded the corner before exchanging looks.

 

“That is truly the worst thing I've ever smelled,” he told her matter-of-factly. “It's like the broiled remains of a ten-person shit party.”

 

“Just remember I kiss you with this mouth before you make any other remarks,” said Quistis, and Seifer cringed for more than one reason. Leaving the door open, Quistis went to the sliding glass doors over Raijin's balcony and opened them to let the sea breezes whisk the Bad Breath odor out of the apartment. The good thing about Bad Breath was that while it was incredibly foul in the short-term, it was also very short-lived and in five minutes, there would be no trace of the smell in the room or on her. Nevertheless Quistis paused by the doors, her satisfaction at chasing Nina away dimming into concern. If Nina had recognized her, what would she have done? What would Seifer have done?

 

“ _Would we have killed Nina to keep our secret? We love each other and don't want to lose what we have... And people have killed for so much less. We have, too. Especially me. If it came down to it, would I kill someone I knew, someone I liked, someone who looks up to me, to keep what I have with Seifer?”_

 

Just the fact that the thought even occurred made Quistis swallow hard, rattled by her selfishness, and she looked over her shoulder to check in with Seifer. But her half-formed query to his thoughts puffed away when she saw he was gone and the door was wide open, and when she ran to the apartment door she saw him disappearing around the corner. Panic struck like a thunderbolt and Quistis ran after him, fear and horror roiling in her stomach. Seifer was definitely capable of killing someone he perceived as a threat and his relationship with Nina wasn't nearly as close or complicated as Quistis's own.

 

“ _Could I just... Let him do it? If Nina disappeared, then maybe...”_

 

No. It would be murder. And more than that, there would be an investigation and unless she moved very fast, Quistis would find herself up in front of Xu and Squall and Zama and every other SeeD who would not only revile her for her inaction, but also who she'd chosen to stand by. Seifer killing Nina would solve nothing. It would be better to make Nina go away and stay alive, but Quistis remembered Seifer's stubborn insistence on 'dead men tell no tales' in Deling City and she just couldn't trust that he'd let Nina walk.

 

“ _How the hell did she track me down?”_ Seifer wondered, running swiftly but lightly after Nina as she fled the stench. _“Well, one thing's for sure; she wasn't expecting to find me today. Otherwise the other team members would be here, and there's going to be at least two of them. With travel to FH being as thick as it is, she might even be here alone. But I've got to make sure.”_

 

The possibility of capture hummed like static at the back of Seifer's head at all times and in a way, he was surprised that he was surprised to have been found. Despite his swagger he knew the odds were against him, which was why he had to be smarter and faster than the opposition. But of all the people he could outthink and outrun, Quistis Trepe was not one of them and she caught up to him before he managed to follow Nina outside.

 

“Se—Stop!” She exclaimed, grasping his arm at the same time.

 

“What for?” Seifer looked over his shoulder, nerves jangling with adrenaline—what if they'd been flanked?—but it was only Quistis, pale and tense.

 

“Just...” She licked her lips, suddenly tongue-tied. “It could be a trap. Don't spring it.”

 

“I don't plan on wasting an opportunity either,” he said, and her eyes widened with alarm. Nettled, Seifer said, “I'll be fine. I'm just going to find out who's on her team and how much they know.”

 

“ _Oh, thank Hyne, he's not going to kill her... Right now.”_ But she didn't let go of Seifer's arm. Once he found out what he wanted to know, what would he do? Would he come back? Would Quistis hear of a casualty report later? Quistis couldn't speak or breathe past the sudden dryness in her mouth. 

 

“What is it?” Seifer asked, confused by Quistis's silence. “You know something I don't?”

 

“No...”

 

He tensed suddenly, his eyes narrowing to emerald slits. “You sure?”

 

It took Quistis a moment to realize why Seifer looked so angry and she let go of his arm, shaking her head. “Yes, I'm sure. No one would discuss a capture operation with me anyway, I'm on sabbatical. And I'd hope you'd know I wouldn't lie to you like that.”

 

Mollified, Seifer looked out and scowled. Nina was gone and with her, any chances of getting better intel. He looked at Quistis suspiciously but she just folded her arms and looked away.

 

“Did you do that on purpose?” He asked, remembering the blowup in Deling City too late. “Did you make me lose her on purpose?”

 

Quistis shook her head but couldn't help the silent conviction that this was better not just for Nina (who would remain alive) and Seifer (who might truly be running into a trap) but also for herself: standing by while a targeted fugitive took down a SeeD operative would put her in an even more complicated position than the one she was already in. And it was _not_ a bad or selfish thing to not want to be in that position. It wasn't.

 

“ _She did it on purpose,”_ Seifer decided, seeing the darkness and conflict in her eyes. Dismay and fury started rising in his chest, making him clench his hands against the need to strike out against something. _“She didn't want me to follow Nina so she slowed me down. She says she wouldn't lie to me but if someone gave the order, she'd bring me in! If she seriously thought it meant a more peaceful capture, one where no one would end up dead, why_ wouldn't _she lie to me?”_

 

The one thing that stopped Seifer's betrayed feelings from ramping straight into paranoid conviction was that if there were a trap, Quistis would be caught in it too. That would mean Squall and Xu had burned her for some reason, but Seifer knew Squall didn't have that kind of coldness in him no matter what sort of front he put up and besides, the rest of the old gang would never let him get away with it. As for Xu, she'd sooner cut off her own arm than destroy Quistis so thoroughly. Of course, that didn't mean everything was well. Quistis _could_ be some sort of undercover genius, but if that was the case then she could have caught him tons of times already and was just taking her time for no good reason. Seifer exhaled hard and dragged his hand over his face like he could pull the boiling delusions off and throw them into the trash. Sometimes a cigar was just a cigar. Sometimes good things _were_ really true.

 

The desire to go out and enjoy the holiday season like any other couple was thoroughly gone, so they went back to the apartment with heavy hearts and Quistis felt her chest go hollow when Seifer went to their room and started packing in a silent fury. It wasn't hard to guess what Seifer was feeling and though Quistis told herself she had nothing to feel bad about, she couldn't stem the tide of guilt that threatened to drown her in air. She sat down, gripping her knees and clamping her lips against oscillating bitterness and upset. Quistis knew how to hide and channel her disappointment. It was why she was such a good SeeD, which right now seemed like the most hated thing to be in the whole wide world.

 

“FUCK!”

 

“What?” Quistis called even as she registered Seifer sounding angry rather than afraid of threatened.

 

“Nothing, just...” Seifer came back out of the bedroom, sucking a cut on his thumb and looking strangely calm. He'd apparently cut himself on one of his knives, a testament to how pissed he was. “Dumb shit. Anyway, I'm done. Let's get out of here.”

 

Quistis stared at him, bewildered. “What? Seifer, we can't—”

 

“She came alone and in disguise, which means it's a recon mission,” he said, eyes burning a little. The calm was apparently a facade, though a convincing one as he added evenly, “And since we drove her off with a perfectly reasonable explanation, she's not going to come back. But if she does come back, it's better for us to be out and as long as we're out, we're going on a date.”

 

“How can you be so calm about this?” Quistis demanded, aghast. “Don't you realize what almost happened?”

 

“Yeah, I _almost_ tracked Nina Hernandez of Balamb Garden to the rendezvous point for her team and _almost_ got intel on who's following me, but hey—” He shrugged in an exaggeratedly casual manner. “God forbid I have an advantage.”

 

“You... Were going to track her?”

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, looking at his cut thumb and narrowing his eyes. As fire bloomed out of the cut and sealed it shut, he said, “Nothing'd give away my position so fast as killing someone. _You_ said that back in Deling City. I paid attention.”

 

“Yes, well...” Quistis sagged in relief, but now the guilt was burning down into her stomach like acid. Seifer looked at her with narrowing eyes.

 

“You thought I was going to kill her? You think I'm stupid or something?”

 

“No, not stupid. Just...” Quistis looked down at the ground again. “But I was worried about Nina. She was one of my students and I...”

 

“I know,” said Seifer, making her turn slightly toward him. “That's why I was planning to track her _only._ I wasn't going to do that to you.”

 

“Oh. Thank you.”

 

“You're welcome,” he said, voice sharp and unpleasant, and Quistis hugged her elbows. Amazing how a little change in tone could turn such polite words into an insult.

 

Seifer saw her withdraw and grumbled a bit. Coming over to the couch, he sat down by her and grasped her hand to pull her to face him. The heavy bangs of her short, fluffy wig and the downward tilt of her head completely hid her eyes from view and Seifer leaned a little to see what she was feeling. It was no one emotion, but rather a collection of nothing good. A ghostly premonition of some sort of anguished fight made the hairs on the back of Seifer's neck stand up, and rather than let Quistis say the words that would end things, Seifer kissed her on the lips and hoped she'd lose focus. There was a moment of still and silent hesitation that made Seifer wonder if he was going to get pushed away or rebuffed in accusatory tones (“How can you think of kissing at a time like this?”), but the reality turned out to be even worse. Quistis did not react at all. And when Seifer leaned back, there was a deadness behind her eyes that made him hiss.

 

“ _Is it all worth it?”_ Quistis thought, gazing into her boyfriend's face. Emotions so much wilder and more intense than her own seemed to flicker just under the surface of his skin, telegraphing in tightening of the eyes and the dilation of his firekissed pupils, the way his lips parted with words that could be harsh or unbearably sweet. Behind a metaphorical glass wall, her own emotions roiled but Quistis deliberately ignored the anguish lest she sink into a pit of self-loathing. She had always known her time with Seifer was stolen and limited. She shouldn't be so upset that the reality of it had finally come for them and for now, passed them by. They might not get another chance to escape unscathed. There was a lesson to be learned here...

 

“Don't you dare quit on me,” Seifer said, making Quistis blink and focus on the moment. “You're not pulling this pre-emptive breakup bullshit again. Not if you love me.”

 

“I wasn't planning anything of the sort,” said Quistis, pushing away the surge of hurt she felt at his words. “Anyway, you were the one who was getting ready to leave.”

 

“What, that?” He jerked his head at the doorway to their room. “That was me just getting stuff together. One baby SeeD isn't going to chase me off that easy. And there's nothing in there that I can't afford to lose if it comes down to it.”

 

“Really?” asked Quistis, but then remembered that Seifer went armed at all times. Particularly when he got kissy in public and she would feel the shape of his long knives along his sides when she held him.

 

“Really. Nothing in there to ID me either.” Seifer scowled, saying, “Though I'd really like to know how she found this place. I need to give Fujin and Raijin a heads-up.”

 

“She might have been tracking them,” Quistis mused, making Seifer look at her sharply. “You move all over the place but they don't. And Raijin's been here a few months, hasn't he?”

 

“Yeah... But he can't be the only thunder user in the world. And no one from the Garden would think he'd work in an engineering firm.”

 

“True, but this is still his place. And judging from Nina's disguise, she was planning on breaking in and looking around. Possibly even planting surveillance dots.”

 

“Surveillance dots?” Seifer repeated, making Quistis blink and then flush as she realized what she'd done. “Those are new issue since I left. Presents from Esthar?”

 

“I shouldn't say.”

 

“Definitely presents from Esthar,” he said, making Quistis scowl. Seifer just laughed. “You can't blame me for picking up any info you drop by accident.”

 

Quistis rubbed her temples, half out of the wig being tight and the other half out of growing discomfort.

 

“Seifer, what are we going to do if you get caught?”

 

There was a moment of stunned silence before Seifer exhaled hard, clasping his hands as his expression became serious.

 

“Depends if we're caught together or not,” he said, making Quistis look at him in surprise. She hadn't expected a real answer to such a serious question so soon. But apparently he had been thinking about it because he kept on going, saying, “If we are, how attached are you to the Garden life?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because if you wanted to stay, I'd say I was trying to kidnap you for leverage so you could go back without trouble. And if you didn't give a fuck, then...”

 

He looked away. Quistis couldn't breathe.

 

“Ah... Well...” She started to fiddle with her hem. The thing he was hinting around was too shocking to acknowledge, so she pretended she hadn't heard it. “Kidnapping seems a bit much. And it would make every SeeD team after you prioritize your death over your capture. Um... We could say I was trying to bring you in quietly. Covertly.”

 

“Sexily.”

 

Quistis snorted and then started laughing. There were too many problems with that approach, but the lighthearted tone in Seifer's voice was a relief. When she glanced at him, he was smiling a little lopsidedly. She wondered if he was waiting for a response to the other thing. If he was, he would have to be content with silence for now. In moments of hating paperwork and drudgery Quistis had daydreamed about running away, but the reality of it was just too daunting especially now that she had responsibilities to so many people. How could she face anyone she cared about if she suddenly left, especially Xu?

 

“We could say I was trying to trick you,” mused Seifer, and when Quistis looked at him in mild offense, he said, “Play off your nostalgia for better days and what. Everyone thinks I'm evil anyway.”

 

“Or maybe I was trying to arrest you independently too.”

 

“So we were trying to play each other? Nice. Although...”

 

“I think you had the right idea before,” said Quistis before Seifer could press for an answer she didn't have. “Let's go out. We don't see each other often enough to waste time together.”

 

“We could,” said Seifer solemnly.

 

Quistis kept still against a flutter of anxiety. “Go out? Yes, isn't that—”

 

“Don't be dense,” he said, his eyes narrowing, and Quistis had to look away. “I know you don't want to go back to the Garden.”

 

“That's not true.”

 

“Really?” Seifer looked unimpressed and unconvinced. “After running around on your own for a year and finally doing things for _you,_ you're really going to go back to be a cog in the gears of war?”

 

Quistis squirmed. “It's not like that. The Garden is—”

 

“The only home you've ever known? The only one that's ever given you anything? The one that's made you the woman you are today, and you think you owe them?”

 

“Yes to all of that, but without the sarcasm.” She brushed her hair over her ear, or tried to; her normal soothing mechanism fell flat with her long hair bunched up under the wig. Suddenly irritated she pulled the wig off and plucked pins from her coiled-up hair, concentrating on keeping her voice calm as she said, “Besides, it's not like I have anything else planned, so I might as well stay until I do.”

 

“Like hell,” said Seifer, his voice equal parts irritated and cajoling. “You're perfectly trained, the smartest woman I know, and you wouldn't be alone. We could go into business together. How's that for a plan?”

 

“I—” Quistis clutched the hairpins, feeling a tremble start in her hands. Damn him and his certainty! “Seifer, I can't—”

 

He exhaled hard. “Just think about it, okay?”

 

“And what if I think about it and say no?” Quistis burst out, looking at him sharply. “What if I like being where I am?”

 

“The hell you do! You just said it yourself, you're with the Garden because you can't think of anything better. Well, now you got an alternative. So—”

 

“Oh yes, being on the run for the rest of my potentially very short life with the world's most wanted fugitive!”

 

“That's what you think of first?” Seifer asked, his voice softening in a way that Quistis found immediately ominous. “That's what you think of _me?”_

 

“No, that's not—”

 

“Because I was thinking—and maybe I'm just crazy or something—that you'd like to run away with the man you claim to love and we could travel the world doing whatever the fuck we want, with no bosses or schedules or bullshit we don't believe in. But hey, if you like all of that for some reason—”

 

Quistis clenched her hands so hard that dull pain started to throb through her knuckles. “You selfish bastard, don't pretend you don't know the downside of what you're asking. If we run away together and things end up going bad, I'll have thrown away my life for nothing.”

 

“So you'd rather throw it away on someone else's orders?”

 

“At least if I lose myself to the Garden, I won't look a fool to the entire world!”

 

“If you can't be a fool for love, what does your love even mean?”

 

Quistis shot to her feet, pins scattering from her hands and hair. She could feel her pulse throbbing in her chest and eyes and while Seifer glared up at her from the couch, she saw his eyes flick down to her clenched hands, which were starting to ache from the bone out.

 

“Nothing to you, apparently,” she said, feeling her cheeks tighten and draw up as her lips pulled back in a snarl. “Since I wasn't instantly transformed into the cooing simpleton of your dreams.”

 

“I don't want you stupid or docile, Quistis, I want you to do what you want,” said Seifer, tearing his eyes away from the way her nails suddenly looked longer, sharper, and very pointed. But her eyes were no less comforting as the blue of her irises swelled and her long golden hair started to creep up, shortening as the suggestion of fur started to shimmer under the skin of her bare arms. The anticipation of battle—either with an angry girlfriend or a possible leopard-woman—made Seifer get to his feet just in case.

 

“Which sounds ever so sweet, except you think what _I_ want should be what _you_ want,” said Quistis, concentrating very hard on not screaming. The monster souls inside her seemed very close all of a sudden, not quite inflaming her temper but sitting near and waiting for a sudden eruption of temper to give them release. Quistis took a deep breath, mentally shoving her monster souls back into the corner and sternly telling them to behave. At the same time she chose her words as carefully as she could so they could just drop this damn subject already.

 

“Listen closely, Seifer—I may not make the choices you like, but _I_ make them. Disagree with them all you want, but respect me enough to let me make them. If anyone should know how horrible it is to be forced into making life-changing decisions you have no say over, it should be you.”

 

It wasn't until the expression dropped off Seifer's face that Quistis realized she had said something wrong. Really, really wrong, because while Seifer said nothing, she could smell the air drying around him a split second before heat started to shimmer over his skin. Part of her reeled as she realized what she'd implied with her cutting words, but the rest of her stubbornly refused to budge. Poor phrasing did not invalidate her point and she was not going to back down to make Seifer feel better.

 

The longer they stood there, the thicker and more uncomfortable the silence became. To Quistis it was not unlike standing above a bomb that she could not disarm or waiting to see how a Behemoth would move so she could figure out her dodge. Seifer was so still that Quistis was not even sure he was breathing until he huffed, and the sound was so sudden and sharp that she nearly flinched. And like a piece of paper catching flame, motion returned quickly in the form of Seifer shaking his head, eyes narrowing to emerald slits, and a loosening of the joints that made Quistis's veins tighten for combat. She was not particularly surprised when he turned and left the apartment without a word. If he hadn't left, she would have. Without looking Quistis knew she had started to lose control over her shape just enough for claws to come out, and god only knew what might have happened after that.

 

To assuage the guilt of losing control in so many ways, Quistis picked every hairpin up off the floor and out of the wig, and put all the items away in their respective places in her luggage. As she packed, she ignored Seifer's belongings, which were so pared-down that they fit in one small standard duffel that could be tossed across the back with ease. From accidentally kicking the thing on multiple occasions, she knew it was densely packed with clothes and only the most vital of supplies with one exception: her birthday present to him. Quistis exhaled a squirm of guilt and went back to packing away her own clothing. When she was done, Seifer was still not back, so she went to the kitchen and made tea. She made two cups, one with plain black tea for herself and one with black tea and a swirl of honey for Seifer, who enjoyed multi-note flavors far more than she did. She was slicing a lemon to put into both of their cups when the door opened and the heavy tromp of steel-toed boot heels on the apartment floor let her know Seifer had returned. Wordlessly he down at the kitchen island, and when Quistis turned around with slices of lemon in her hands, he was stirring his tea with the honey spoon and looking into the black depths like they could tell him something.

 

“I wasn't trying to pressure you and I know all the reasons why it's a bad idea,” he said, his voice low and apologetic without saying the specific words. “But I like everything we do. I want more of it. And when I thought you didn't want the same thing, I just... You didn't even give it a thought.”

 

“I don't want to lie to you even a little,” she said quietly, making Seifer nod once. “You've been through too much to get anything other than the absolute truth, and the truth is that while I love you very, very much, I can't let what we have be _everything_ we have. It can't be the only thing in my life no matter how wonderful it is.”

 

“Yeah, well... Like you said, I know what it's like when you go nuts for just one thing and it doesn't work out.” His gaze flicked up, simultaneously contrite and wary. “But don't you ever use the Bitch Witch against me like that again. I'm _not_ her. And I'm not going to be defined by what she did to me, not by you or anyone else who says they care about me. Fuck knows I get it enough from the rest of the world.”

 

“I know. I'm sorry.” Quistis smiled crookedly. “I'm starting to think I don't know how to be angry very well. It doesn't happen often enough for me to have control over it outside combat.”

 

“Yeah, you do kind of go for the throat when you're pissed.” Seifer smirked back in the same tired, lopsided way. “But then again, so do I. Still love me?”

 

Quistis considered taunting him back, but the idea of even a little scuffle after the yelling match they'd just had seemed exhausting. So she just nodded 'yes' and saw Seifer relax, which made her feel a little bad. She wasn't the only one who lashed out when she was hurt.

 

She reached over the counter to drop the slice of lemon in his tea, but before she could do the same for her own cup Seifer caught her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles in a contemplative sort of way. His grasp was secure but not tight or demanding, so Quistis let him hold her hand and even enjoyed it a little as the crackling anger from before finally ebbed away. Something like a grateful shiver went through her chest when Seifer kissed the back of her hand in an oddly courtly way and for a moment Quistis thought that was a nice way to end things and make up.

 

But then Seifer looked at her, just the upward flick of his eyes, and Quistis realized with a deeper, weightier shiver that went through her entire core that Seifer wanted to make things up in a different way. And a nebulous notion of how close they had come to losing everything forever made Quistis come around the kitchen island and kiss Seifer as warmly and sweetly as she knew how. Seifer responded like the swelling of the ocean before the tide, overwhelming in the way he pulled her down and flooded her senses with kisses full of possessive desire. Just like the first time they'd really kissed after finding each other, the complexity of his scent and the presence of his body seemed to hit Quistis between the metaphorical eyes, convincing her in a single instant that no matter what happened, the entire world existed right here for this moment and everything else could go to hell.

 

“ _She is going to drive me out of my mind,”_ thought Seifer with mixed irritation and growing desire. It was easy to pretend like Quistis was in this just as passionately and deeply as he was when she kissed like this and purred in his lap, molding her every curve and plane against his body like all she wanted was to be close. She had put on an honest-to-god dress for their attempted date, something short and tight and more maddeningly sexy than anything she'd ever worn before, and from the way she gasped when he slid his hands up her skirt, she was still timid about really flaunting her beauty. That meant she'd worn this fuck-me frock just for him and while that made Seifer groan in appreciation, his annoyance grew too. There was a pain growing in his chest at the idea of Quistis being able to go so far for him and yet not take just one step more... 

 

“ _Oh, like this is any different from anything that's happened before! You've always taken what time you've had and made the most of it, so don't fuck this up because you can't have everything you want!”_

 

But he wanted everything anyway. He wanted more of this moment forever, without worrying about pursuit and reputations. A sneaking suspicion that everything was going to go away when he closed his eyes made Seifer rough with sudden need and Quistis squeaked when he grabbed her panties and pulled down. She clapped her hands over his immediately.

 

“What?” He demanded. “Nobody's here.”

 

“What happened to going out in case someone comes back?” She retorted.

 

“We can go out after,” he said, pulling again.

 

“Or we can go out and find someplace else to have... Fun... In,” said Quistis, blushing a bit.

 

Seifer's eyes narrowed, but he didn't look mad. Quistis could almost see the moment he decided not to be annoyed at her obfuscation, though she started to get worried when he smirked.

 

“Fine,” he said, pecking her on the nose. While she was reeling from the unexpected silliness, Seifer said, “But I pick the place. And you're giving me these.”

 

“Give—Hey!” Quistis had to grab Seifer's shoulder for balance as he neatly whisked her panties down and off her legs. And then she nearly fell over as he all but jumped off the barstool they were on, now grinning like a maniac. Quistis pulled her skirt down even though it had hardly risen up and she was not sure if she should throw something or laugh at Seifer. He looked so happy now.

 

“Come and get 'em,” he said, whirling the scrap of fabric around his finger before stuffing them into his coat pocket. Quistis's eyes were slim sapphire slits, but oh, if she'd had a tail, it would be whisking with the desire to play. Seifer laughed when she started for him and immediately he stepped back, putting himself out of her reach.

 

“Give me a minute to get the wig back on,” she said, blushing prettily despite her expression.

 

“So what you're saying is that I have a headstart,” said Seifer, now very amused, and he went for the door, saying, “If you take longer than, say... Ten minutes to find me, you're ending up completely naked for a penalty.”

 

“Only if the same stakes apply to you, _when_ I find you inside ten minutes,” said Quistis, immediately going for their room and her disguise materials.

 

“As if! But sure.”

 

“ _He's going to be naked,”_ Quistis decided, both competitively and amorously pleased at the idea. As Seifer left the apartment, Quistis put on a different wig, changed from sky-high heels to ones she could run in, and left the apartment with a quick, slick anticipation that made her breath come shorter. This was the only kind of hunt for Seifer she ever wanted to be on, and if the Garden told her to do otherwise, then...

 

Well. She had time to make up her mind. A few more months of sabbatical, anyway. And after that, well... She could retire. Selphie and Irvine had done it and seemed pretty happy. And then she'd have all her salary and a severance package too.

 

“ _I'll wait a few months and see,”_ she thought with a cautious lifting of the heart. _“That way, if things_ do _go bad, I'll at least have enough money to start over fresh. And if they go well, money would definitely make things a lot more comfortable...”_

 

But that was far off in the future. Now there were more pressing needs, like finding Seifer before he got too far. Seifer had been setting the pace in their encounters for far too long. It was definitely time to turn the tables.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: In an earlier draft, I realized that they _never_ once discussed contingency plans. That's a huge oversight and absolutely unforgivable in my book. So here's this instead. It's one of an innumerable number of changes that I hope turn out well in the future.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	34. Chapter 34

Slate-grey skies outside and a thickness to the air implied snow later that evening, but the soreness in Kumi Na's remaining bones confirmed it. Escaping the Sorceress and the Mad Knight at the Battle of the Gardens had cost her right leg, all feeling from the waist down, and the loss of her right eye. It was a bitter upside that she still had a spirit seething for action and vengeance inside a body that was bound by the limits of an electronic wheelchair. As a further blow to her dignity, that pansy-ass Fury Caraway had decomissioned the Bastards and Kumi Na was living on an army pension. Granted, hers was fatter than most since she'd never had a family, but the medical bills were guzzling the gil fast and even with the living members of her squad helping out, it was going to be a miserable, mundane end to an otherwise brilliant existence. Retirement, fuck... If Kumi Na had ever been into long, slow deaths, she would have hung herself with a bridge-diving cord.

 

But not once did Kumi Na seriously think it should have ended at the bottom of that elevator shaft. She knew who was to blame for her current state and her inevitable inglorious end, and though the Sorceress was dead and gone, her Little Sir was still running around free, the wretch. And while Kumi Na could not go after him like the burning scar on her back demanded, she could keep an eye and ear out for who was closest to catching him and then persuade them that collecting the bounty on him would be easier if he were dead. And if they needed some help with that, the four surviving members of her team would be more than happy to help out. Kumi Na was a cripple, but she was still their Captain and since being cut loose from the army, they were finally their own squad. And that wasn't bad at all. Now free of the army, the Bastards were in demand for people who wanted certain jobs done without bugging around with SeeD or the International Combat Specialist Org code of conduct, and Kumi Na took some comfort in the fact that her 'kids' would have incomes now that Caraway had done them all wrong. For a while, anyway. Things were always touch and go in this business.

 

When the doorbell rang, Kumi Na initially thought it was one of her old squad coming to visit. Braillor, the youngest of them all, was something of a worrywart and would come by once a week with food. It was sweet of him, if only he'd bring something other than healthy shit with less salt than a sneeze.

 

“It's open,” she shouted, not bothering to see who it was. She was in the middle of taking apart a revolver because of course a civilian could only get the most mundane of prosthetics, and an old woman living alone needed some way to blow an intruder's head off. Kumi Na was not particularly worried about specific enemies. She had murdered and outlived nearly all of them. Still, when the tall, fairksinned woman with the dark brown hair and ultra-chic navy suit came in, Kumi Na looked her over and wondered if she was related to any of the high hundreds Kumi Na had killed.

 

“You don't know me,” said the woman to the question in Kumi Na's upraised brow. “My name is Naveida Sarle. I'm with the International Combat Specialist Organization.”

 

“Piss off,” said Kumi Na, gesturing at her with a broken-down revolver barrel. “The Bastards aren't gonna reg with the ICSO and if you're here to take me out, I'll blast you in the face.”

 

“Indeed,” said Naveida, tactfully not eyeing the broken bits of gun all over Kumi Na's work station. “I don't want you to register with us. I want to hire you.”

 

“The fuck you do. You've got a thousand-plus guilds registered with the ICSO, you can't want a dirty group unless it's spectacularly suicidal. And my team does bad odds, but not dead ones.”

 

“And the ICSO doesn't pick fights with SeeD,” said Naveida, making Kumi Na cock her head in interest. “No matter how much they... Overstep.”

 

“What makes you think a group of old butchers can go up against the 'premier combat specialists' of the world? Especially considering how we went from twelve to five because of those little assholes?”

 

“Before you make any decisions, I'd like to show you something,” said Naveida, and lifted a slim case that looked like an armored wine bottle case. Moving slowly but confidently, Naveida unscrewed the top of the case and tipped it over, catching the object inside as it slid out. Kumi Na hissed in both hated recognition and acquisitive greed, because the object was the most beautiful weapons-grade prosthetic arm she had ever seen and it was also unmistakably Estharian tech.

 

“Get that filthy hoodhat tech fuck away from me,” barked Kumi Na _,_ her skin literally crawling at the sight of the weapon-hand.

 

“You can't walk, can't feel, can't do anything but sit in your skin and seethe,” said Naveida, tilting the pretty weapon so the milky skin covering it glimmered in the light. Though its form was that of a human hand, Kumi Na could see the multiple plates and chambers that would make it reconfigure into different weapons. “I'm sure you'd like to change that.”

 

“Go fuck yourself with a—”

 

“I've got legs too. And a new eye. We can even take your entire nervous system out and put in a body that actually suits you.” Naveida held the arm out to Kumi Na. “And all you have to do is bring me one little target before SeeD gets him first.”

 

“Him?” Kumi Na tore her eyes away from the tech to look at Naveida. “You're talking about the Little Sir. Seifer Almasy.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Now wasn't _that_ interesting. In moments when Kumi Na had energy, she'd devoted a daydream or two to tracking down the Little Sir and opening him up across the back just like he'd done to her, and then dropping him down an elevator shaft so he could experience the devastating pain and total helplessness of paralysis. Then she'd heal him up just enough for him to see her kill his beloved friends slowly in front of him, much like how the majority of her squad had died in front of her on his stupid-ass orders. Though Kumi Na had special tortures prepared for Cid, his little medic lady, and that absolute beast of a sword-wielding SeeD who'd actually done the killing, the Bastards would never have been in place to die if not for Sir Seifer Almasy's instructions. Kumi Na clenched the fingers of her good hand.

 

“The hell do you want him for?”

 

“Multiple reasons.”

 

“More than 10 million gil if you catch him yourself?” Kumi Na settled into her wheelchair like it was her old command chair, the one good eye narrowing. “And what makes you think _we_ wouldn't nab him and fork him over to Galbadia for the money?”

 

“You mean to the people who tossed you into the gutter without a thank you for all your hard work?”

 

Kumi Na tsked. “You're talking to someone on a pretty fat pension, silly Sarle. Try again.”

 

“My mistake. I suppose you've been put into the archives, then.”

 

Kumi Na's mouth thinned at the unspoken _relic_ insult. “Still not hearing a reason to say yes.”

 

“I'm offering you a chance to humiliate SeeD and the Galbadian government by doing what they can't,” said Naveida, ticking off the points on her long, elegant fingertips. “I'm also offering you a new body as a down payment on what I promise will be a substantial fee. And finally, I'm offering immunity from the ICSO for the lifetime of your group as long as the name is in use.”

 

Now that made Kumi Na sit up a little. Unbonded freelancing groups had total liberty in what they did and who they could contract from, but that freedom came at a very real risk of pissing off the bullet-and-blade-wielding bureaucrats of the ICSO and the Garden system. Neither group liked uncontrolled elements running around and snatching up any business, and it was an unspoken rule that the unbonded worked alone or else.

 

“Who are you to make such a promise?” Kumi Na asked, her voice turning soft with interest. “The ICSO is over a thousand-plus little guilds and no one can make them behave unless they write the Org rules. And you don't look old or mean enough.”

 

“Then it's a good thing I didn't get my position based on age or looks, isn't it?”

 

“Rank.”

 

“Grand Master.”

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

Naveida Sarle smiled, not showing teeth and yet radiating confidence.

 

“You are _not_ one of the three heads of the ICSO!”

 

The fair-skinned woman with cloud-silver hair blinked as calmly and evenly as a cat.

 

“How has someone not whacked you?” Kumi Na half-shouted in disbelief. The Grand Masters of the International Combat Specialist Organization were pretty much the only people who could herd the group of mercenary cats through a combination of fees, laws, and oh yeah, _sheer ability for utter destruction._ The fact that they could do the last without cheating with Guardian Forces was something everyone should be properly terrified of, but all Kumi Na could do was look the woman up and down. For fucksake, she didn't even look over forty.

 

“Wait, don't answer that,” said Kumi Na as Naveida opened her mouth. “Answer this instead. In the event I say yes, I get a new body, we nab the Little Sir and shoo-la-la, why my group? There has to be someone stupid enough in your org who wants to get free and has a better skillset.”

 

“Because like I said before, no one wants to go up agains the Gardens. And...” Naveida looked annoyed at this. “My colleagues have different ideas about how Almasy should be handled. They're idiots. I prefer not to work with them on this.”

 

“And what's to stop your idiots from coming after me and mine once they find out what you're up to?”

 

“They won't. But in the case they get lucky, I'll kill them both and blame it on Almasy.”

 

Kumi Na burst out laughing. “And why would he do a dumbfuck thing like that?”

 

“Because I have it on good authority he's working as a dirty merc, and what better way to make a name than by whacking two of the world's most dangerous warriors?”

 

“He's not that stupid.”

 

“Does everyone else know that? Does everyone else believe it?”

 

It was very thin, but then again Kumi Na knew the Little Sir. She had worked with him when the Sorceress was running the show, and back then he _had_ been pretty hotheaded and irrational. Kumi Na's assessment that he was more than that had to do with how the people around him treated him, which hinted at someone much smarter who'd been forced into the background. But that was neither here nor there.

 

“And what about you turning us into your idiot friends once we're done with the job?”

 

Naveida chuckled. “If you really think every Grand Master doesn't have a dirty set of tools for private jobs, you're really quite naïve. I'm sure you've been approached with certain offers.”

 

Offers... Maybe 'threats' was more accurate. _Join the ICSO or get greased._ So far Kumi Na had been able to keep most of the trouble off her gang by buying off the messengers, though the frequency with which they'd been appearing had gotten Kumi Na thinking that 'firmer' requests were coming down the pipeline. Hence the DIY gun-arm assembly.

 

“Most dirty groups just get cleaned,” said Naveida, making Kumi Na thin her lips. “But you've had, what... Five, six agents come around requesting that you register? It's unheard of. And it's all because my colleagues want you under control.”

 

“Whereas you just want us under _your_ control.”

 

“Don't be fooled. It would be the same under the main organization, except you'd be paying _them_ for the privilege of being alive.” Naveida gestured somewhat airily. “In exchange for health and life insurance and whatnot. Still. Wouldn't you rather be able to get paid and keep _all_ the money?”

 

“Money don't spend if you're dead.” Kumi Na waved at Naveida Sarle. “Shoo now.”

 

Naveida sighed. “You can't say you're not a little interested. In this, if nothing else.”

 

And she held up the gun-arm, which made Kumi Na look away.

 

“I don't do hoodhat tech.”

 

“A laser blaster, a rocket cannon, and a blade,” said Naveida, and without warning tossed the arm into Kumi Na's lap. The veteran recoiled and picked it up to throw it away, but immediately noticed how light the entire thing was. Her old arm cannon had been at least a pound heavier and with only two weapons inside.

 

“You could have a life of your own again,” said Naveida when Kumi Na could not make herself throw the arm away. “Living without depending on anyone. And being as dangerous as you know you should be, for your sake... And your squad's. After all, the only way you can defend them now is with bluster and maybe some money. And you know the ICSO won't be polite forever.”

 

Naveida Sarle took a packet of papers out of the pocket of her pocket and put them on Kumi Na's worktable. “The terms. Look them over. Discuss them with your group. Bring them to a lawyer, even. You'll find them comprehensive and generous. And the arm...”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Keep it for now,” said Naveida, making Kumi Na grumble a bit. “And see what your life could be like with a whole body like that.”

 

“I told you, I don't do hoodhat tech.”

 

“If you really don't like it after you've tested it out—picking up things, walking, wearing clothes like a normal person again—then I'll take it back. But until then, _if_ then... Hang onto it and see.”

 

And with that, Naveida left. Before the door even shut behind her Kumi Na was already looking at the pretty gun-arm again, instinctive revulsion of Estharian technology fighting with the very practical need to be able to pick up small objects in both hands. She was not entirely surprised when the socket above the elbow of the arm was the exact diameter of her prosthesis plug, and with no one around to be horrified at her fall from grace, Kumi Na took off her crappy crab-claw and put the new arm on. The unholy nanotech fitted itself to the plug with an audible series of shivering clicks like a bunch of dried insects falling down a tube, but before the full revulsive shiver went down Kumi Na's spine, her shoulder fell slightly with sudden weight. And for the first time in nearly ten months, Kumi Na lifted her right hand.

 

“Oh, fuck me,” she groaned as a nearly unspeakable glee swept up through her veins and followed the track and turn of the glorious new hand. There were actual fingers on this hand and a real opposing thumb. Subtle splits along the forearm came apart and reconfigured to turn into the promised blaster, blade, and cannon as easy as thinking about it. Her eye fell on the broken-down revolver on her worktable and Kumi Na turned at once. As easily as though she had her old limb—her original limbs, even!—she put the revolver back together and broke it down again as easy as a whisper. Then Kumi Na went to the kitchen, took one of Braillor's sickeningly healthy meals out of the fridge, and seasoned it with salt and and hot sauce using both hands. And for the first time in months, she got exactly the amount she wanted of both.

 

“ _I could stand again. I could move again. I could do_ everything for myself _again!”_

 

And all she had to do was bring in the Little Sir before SeeD got him... And if she could whack half of Adel's precious honor guard with one arm and a broken leg, she and four of her very best friends could nab a single eighteen-year-old asshole.

 

“ _I owe that little whore's son anyway,”_ thought Kumi Na as an old, fire-edged injury burned across her back. In the old days, no one had ever put a scratch on Kumi Na and lived to tell about it. And Naveida Sarle just wanted him alive and able to talk?

 

“ _Fine. That's all very fine. The way my body is now, without the prosthetics... That's alive and able to talk. And he'd be so much easier to bring in without arms or legs... Or eyes... Heh. And I was afraid retirement would be short and boring.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Villainy in the offing! Also the return of regular updates, though I think I'm going to go for 1 chapter ever 2 weeks at this point. Before I did the rewrite, I had a buffer of like... Months. Now, not so much. But I'm moving things better now, so I feel good despite having less squish room.  
  
So stuff about the ICSO: it's is more like a registration bureau than anything else. Guilds register their names and roster of staff and pay a sliding percentage based on their earnings and the types of jobs they take. In return, they have nice mercenary-specific health and life insurance to take care of any loved ones they leave behind. Other than that and making sure the registered guilds don't commit any totally atrocious crimes (murder and trafficking of children and biological warfare among others), the ICSO pretty much leaves people alone. The Grand Masters still work as mercs even with their elected office but they'll get together to review rules and preside over inter-guild disputes. They have the same status as the Commander and the Garden Master, which in this universe means they are basically the same level as presidents since the ICSO is a functional but not physical extraterritorality. The ICSO has a single base that is basically a submarine the size of an American naval carrier (which is why it never appears in the game, also I liked having the sub in ff7), but that's the only piece of centralized territory it has.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	35. Chapter 35

All too soon, it was time to separate and Seifer assuaged his resentment by screwing Quistis's brains out the morning of her departure. It was going to be a long three months until their next getaway, which would be in Esthar: Quistis was planning to go to the SeeD outpost there anyway and get shipped back to the Garden rather than have another vehicle come to Shumi Village's secret location. She was definitely wobbling by the time she left for the docks, which made Seifer feel good for all of an hour. Then it was time for him to get his shit together and leave, because although Nina Hernandez had not come back to Raijin's place (and there were cameras in the apartment now; Fujin's idea), Seifer still had the feeling someone was watching him. He needed to get out of town fast.

 

Fujin and Raijin pressed a variety of useful supplies on him and swore not to contact him for at least a month, and after a bit of misdirection (buying a train ticket for Timber and then switching trains to get onto one for Esthar), Seifer was on his way. Having the wrong ticket was not a problem for Seifer. Despite being headed to Esthar, this train still used the old punch-and-paper system that was literally child's play to avoid, and riding the rails was actually something Seifer had done frequently as a young teen. So Seifer looked out of the window and watched the sea rush by without any more cares than usual. There was, however, a good deal more irritation.

 

“ _This is fucking stupid,”_ he couldn't help but think. A part of him that was eternally optimistic tried to get him excited about heading to secretive Esthar, rumored to have insane technology and other wonders never seen. And with the surface being torn up the way it was after the Lunar Cry, it was something like a brand new frontier for those adventurous (stupid?) enough to carve out their place in it. Hell, the government even paid people who destroyed tough enough monsters, which had caused a slew of enterprising hunting types to flood into Esthar for easy money. It would be a cinch to hide there.

 

Yes. Hide. Like a rabbit or a pheasant or at best, a fox that'd get torn to pieces for sport. Seifer clenched his jaw and exhaled like he could blow off the bubbles of his boiling anger. He wasn't an idiot. He'd always known that there'd be close calls here and there. He'd just never figured that the first real one would happen when he was happy. What it implied about whatever years he had left was far from comforting.

 

The train ride to Esthar was a little over two days long. At the end of the first day, the lights of Esthar appeared on the horizon like the gleam of a second sunrise, though Seifer heard from other passengers that this was new: in the old days of isolationism, no such signs of civilization could be seen. As night turned to day, the lights became structures that never seemed to grow larger in the distance until the train came very close, and that was when Seifer realized that they were actually fucking huge. He had no idea what the huge dandelion-like devices were until he saw the light flashing off them and realized they were probably solar energy collectors like the ones in Fisherman's Horizon and inside the sails of the White SeeD Ship. Simple curiosity became morbid in turns as Seifer wondered if these devices had been a standard way to get power before the entire country had gone underground.

 

“ _And all because of what I did...”_

 

Seifer barely remembered Lunatic Pandora, and what he did remember seemed too bizarre for reality. He remembered Quistis telling him about his birth family. He remembered Fujin and Raijin finally being pushed too far. Other things, like Quistis being half-leopard and rain coming out of the ceiling, seemed less clear. The most fantastic recurring image (memory?) from that time was facing off a crackling energy form that all but screamed 'Guardian Force' and managing not only to hit it, but destroy it utterly... That was too weird for reality, right? Right. Normal humans couldn't destroy Guardian Forces. No, normal humans could just drive a fucking weapon of mass destruction and activate a catastrophic phenomenon that killed thousands of people in a single day.

 

“ _I think I'd rather be able to kill GF's. At least then it's in battle against a single opponent that I know is trying to kill me. Thousands of civilians with no defenses and who never see it coming... That's just wrong.”_

 

Yes. And that was Seifer's reality.

 

Between the disguising bracelets and his coat, Seifer was sure he would not be recognized. Still, his first step onto Estharian soil was both furtive and guilty, and it was something of a relief that the far wall of the train station was taken up with a big mural of Esthar as it had been. Done up in traditional glass mosaic, it was very pretty and no wonder lots of people were taking pictures of it, but the human blockade basically right outside the train made Seifer annoyed. At least being tall had its perks. While he was stuck behind the gawkers, Seifer scanned the hard light displays indicating where visitors had to go. Would it be better to go into 'Tourists' or 'Immigration'? Which one would be easier to escape into New Esthar from?

 

“Please have your identification ready for the scanners,” intoned a professional pleasant voice above Seifer's head. “Acceptable forms of identification include a driver's license, a citizen identification card, a voter's registration card, a rail folio, or a military or mercenary folio. Thank you and enjoy your visit to Esthar.”

 

Seifer scowled. He had multiple copies of some of those things, but it would be best to act like all those identities had been burned. Now what? As the voice reminded incoming visitors that bringing non-service animals into the country was illegal, Seifer shouldered his way through the crowd and started going down the stairs that led into the main station. Sidestepping the line for legal mercs to check in their weapons, Seifer automatically ducked his head away from the flying security cameras and made his way toward the service doors at the sides of the station. Surely one of them had to lead to the outside if the scribbles on the outside said anything like “staff only”.

 

Seifer tried not to be dazzled by the utter foreignness of Estharian life as he walked through the crowd. The stalls that sold edibles in this train station featured foods he had never seen before: ice cream that was beaten and mashed with paddles, skewers of meat seasoned a bright attractive red, and massive iron bowls filled with grains and chopped vegetables that were stirred by people manning spatulas the size of shovels. The chintzy gifts here were not the usual mini-sculptures of famous landmarks, but pretty little sculptures of hands with eyes in their palms and blue-white bulleyes made of glass. Everywhere Seifer looked, there were Estharian men and women wearing long robes that sometimes even covered the face and tabards of blazing jewel-like colors with subtle designs. Little children wore slightly more fitted versions of the same things with long cuffs that left the hands free and showed off bright shoes in happy patterns. Despite knowing he had been born in Esthar, the sound of the Estharian tongue was so unlike anything Seifer had ever heard that it both set his teeth on edge and made his chest ache with the utter absence of recognition. Surreptitiously he glanced at every Estharian face he could see, wondering if somewhere in the crowd there was a long-lost relative. He had no illusions they'd welcome him with open arms, but maybe they knew something of his parents... And any other surviving family.

 

A siren cut through Seifer's thoughts and the rote announcement overhead, and while most people looked around in confusion Seifer automatically dropped into a crouch, alarm spiking every nerve. Had someone found him? Was someone going to get him now? A second later, a sharp but still professional voice came over the speakers and unlike the one before, this one was not canned.

 

“Attention. There has been a breach in the outer and middle defensive walls around the train station. Please load back onto the trains in a quick, orderly fashion. We request that all mercenaries facilitate the move and guard the retreat, should it be necessary. Any foreign nationals who help the evacuation will be compensated. Take your orders from the nearest Estharian soldier.”

 

“A breach?” Someone repeated, puzzled. “What does that mean?”

 

“Why are there defensive walls around the train station?” Someone else asked.

 

Seifer looked around. While the foreigners were looking stupidly around, the Estharians were grabbing their children and pulling up the fronts of their robes to all but run onto the trains, and their panic spread like wildfire. Meanwhile the mercenaries were pulling their checked-in weapons off the conveyor belt leading to the scanner and opening cases, assembling and unsheathing weapons, and slotting gleaming chargestones stuffed with para-magic into various bits of magic-supporting armor. Seifer stumbled as someone shoved him in the back.

 

“Onto the train, go,” barked an unfamiliar male voice.

 

“Piss off!” Seifer snapped, jerking up the edge of his coat to show off one of his long knives. The man behind him scoffed a little humorlessly but lowered his hand and backed away in a patronizingly placating gesture, and as his jacket lifted Seifer could see two handguns holstered at his ribs.

 

“You got a mask?” Someone else called, making Seifer glance at a person who he swore was the Estharian doppelganger of Asano Kadowaki. A press of a button activated a hard light blade that glowed bright blue and axelike at the end of a telescoping staff.

 

“What do you mean, a mask?”

 

“Lunar Beasts melt into poison gas,” said the Estharian, glancing at Seifer. She reached into a pocket under her jewel-colored tabard and tossed Seifer a thin scarf. “Wrap your face. Better than nothing if it gets thick in here.”

 

“You're really calm about this,” said Seifer as he wrapped the scarf around his nose and mouth. “Breaches happen often or something?”

 

“At the wall, yes. But this is the first time for the station.” She shrugged and pulled a sleek, flexible, face-fitting mask out of her hood and over her head. “Guess it was just a matter of time, though. The Beasts are many and they melt into acid too.”

 

“Great,” said Seifer, not for the first time wishing he had Hyperion back. He missed having a weapon with real reach.

 

From the urgent tone of the announcement, Seifer half-expected monsters to start pouring through the walls and kept his eyes on the exits, which would be the natural soft spots. The dull roar of the evacuating civilians—the Estharians, frightened but controlled; the foreigners, uncertainty taking the edge off hysteria—kept Seifer from hearing any sounds of combat, though the Estharian soldiers who had until now been idling around the station exits were now spreading out and creating rough squads to cover different areas. Seifer drifted toward Esthari Kadowaki for lack of any other direction. Apparently she was a soldier type because she began issuing orders once a certain amount of people had gathered around her.

 

“We've just received word that SeeD is on the way,” she said, making Seifer's lips thin for multiple reasons. “They're in charge of cleanup. All we have to do is hold the line and keep the Beasts from getting to the trains. Just like normal monsters, these things are  _ hungry _ for human flesh and they will do anything to get it. The XDI says there's no fliers in the group, so anybody who's got a long-range weapon, get up on the trains and snipe at will. Anyone with five years of experience or more, you're up front. Five years or less, you're on healing and support.  _ Hold the line.  _ We have never had incursion into New Esthar and we will not have it today!”

 

“Back up, dumpling,” someone muttered to Seifer as the group shifted and Seifer put himself on the front lines. “This is no place for ego.”

 

“I've been doing this since I was six,” said Seifer, drawing and twirling his knives for show. “You watch and learn.”

 

“Gonna get torn up,” someone grunted, making Seifer sneer at the speaker even as he noticed the thick body armor the man was wearing. “Just don't take anyone down with you.”

 

Seifer opened his mouth to tell him to piss off too, but a shockingly loud thud echoed through the antechamber of the train station and all talk cut off as though with a knife. Seifer took a steadying breath as the hardened professionals around him raised their weapons with various clicks, mechanical whirs, and the dry crackle-crunch of the air charging around para-magic users. There was another loud thud. And then a shriek of ripping metal that blended into the most undeniably alien noise Seifer had ever heard. He couldn't tell if it was the bone-shaking undertone or squealing overtone that hurt his ears more, and from the tunnel that led to 'Immigration', there boiled out downright ugliest thing Seifer had ever seen. It looked like someone had half-skinned a rat, boiled it, and then reanimated its bloated corpse to a thousand times its size. Seifer nearly gagged as an eye-wateringly awful scent of something like cat piss and hot peppers assaulted his senses, the odor undeniably emanating from the Beast.

 

“Nastirat,” somebody murmured. “Nuts. They never come alone.”

 

Nobody shouted 'open fire' but the gunners on the tops of the trains started unloading in a thundering cacophony that almost drowned out the civilian screams of fright. The Nastirat shrieked and backed up into the tunnel on way too many legs, but a second later something shoved it out of the way. Another Nastirat. And then another. And then two more, and then too many. Seifer stopped counting when the Beasts charged.

 

“Hold your positions!” The soldier bellowed, raising her weapon. “Guard the trains—no, the trains, damn it!”

 

It was clear to see who the military-trained among the mercs were. The ones who had studied the art of war in a school kept firm and ready, but the freelancers and renegades rushed forward for glory. Seifer nearly did the same, but at the last second remembered it was important not to stand out and planted his feet. It was just as well he did, because it gave him a chance to examine just how the Nastirats killed—daggerlike teeth, prehensile tail, and jumping single targets three at a time. Battle cries became dying screams. Anyone sensible should have been scared, but instead Seifer licked his lips and realized he was grinning. Well, why not? This was what he knew how to do best. And by god, was he good at it. Now if he just got an opening...

 

Several Nastirats cleared the initial surge of mercenaries and came for the ones around the trains, making the remaining mercs brace up. About a third of their fellows had rushed forward and half of them were now dead or injured, meaning the line front of the trains was somewhat thin. The Estharian soldiers stepped into the gaps, raising their silly-looking weapons with the quiet conviction of those facing death, and several of the mercenaries started to shift uncomfortably. Seifer summoned his fire lore to just below his skin, eyeing the Nastirats for the best target. There was one that looked like it was pretty messed up if the blood steaming off it was any indication, but even the Beast that had been first shot at didn't look that hurt. Seifer scowled when he spotted the damage from the Beasts even healing. How rude.

 

“ _But that sure explains why Esthar still has a problem with these things after all this time... Big, fast, tough, and regenerating. Oh yeah, and made of acid and poison gas.”_

 

Then a spearhead of black-clad warriors crackling with power and bristling with weapons ran in from the tunnel. Breaking into three-person teams, they each targeted a Nastirat and efficiently corralled them together while one group ran around the battlefield throwing curative spells like they were beads in a drunk parade. The sight of a SeeD's field uniform—formfitting, practical, and marked on both top and bottom with one's SeeD ID number—made Seifer duck his head in caution and resentment. In another lifetime, he would have been in that uniform too, maybe even here.

 

“Heads down, GF out,” someone shouted as the Nastirats were pressed against the far wall. Two squads flanked a third, one member of which was starting to flicker with the characteristic dimensional instability of summoning.

 

“Demon worshippers,” someone whispered, sounding horrified. This time someone else told them to shut up.

 

The SeeD vanished. Inside the train station, sorcerous clouds darkened and then exploded with thunder as Quetzacotl flared into being, making mercenaries and SeeDs alike dodge stray lightning in the tight confines. When Quetzacotl blasted the clustered Beasts, Seifer did not shield his eyes like everyone else. Instead he looked striaght at the Guardian Force that he'd once had control over and it took everything in him not to scream in frustration.

 

“ _That Guardian Force used to be mine. That uniform used to be mine. That life...”_

 

And then it was gone. While the Nastirats were still alive, they were spooked and with a hideous shrieking they scattered, some of them clawing up the walls in a desperate attempt to escape. The SeeDs hit the ones still on the ground while mercs opened fire on the stragglers, and Seifer stumbled when one of his fellow frontliners shouldered him out of the way to strike at a Nastirat that was charging their train. With a bellow the man slashed with a sword the size of a surfboard, but the blade seemed to bounce off the Beast's flayed skin. It slashed at his stomach with an oversized claw, sending the man flying; fortunately, body armor caught the worst of it and Seifer saw the man land on his back with a groan. Seifer glared balefully at the Nastirat and stepped forward. Here at last was a concrete target for everything wrong in his life, and he was going to make it pay.

 

“Fuck you,” he half-shouted, feeding fire into his knives until the flames made a shape like two matched swords. The Nastirat hissed and backed up, razor-edged tail lashing. “Fuck you! _Fuck you!”_

 

The Nastirat leaped back. Seifer gave chase. Various small battles raged in the background but with no one immediately around, Seifer had no reservations about blasting the Beastwith a cherry-red fireball the size of a beach ball, which spread over the Nastirat in a carpet of phosphorous flame as soon as it impacted. The Beast screamed in its ear-breaking voice and tried to run away, but its scrambling retreat turned into an erratic stumble as the flames did their work and Seifer closed the distance as the fires died off, revealing a half-roasted form that dripped with blackened chunks of flesh every time the Beast moved. Sensing his approach, the Beast swung at him with an overlong forelimb but Seifer sidestepped and dropped into a dodging roll that brought him closer to it. From watching the SeeDs fight, Seifer knew the Nastirat's neck was vulnerable and when he stood up, he slashed directly across the Beast's unprotected throat with one of swords of flame. Burning scarlet, the weapon did not bounce off; it slashed through like a hot knife through butter instead, making blue-black blood fountain forth and the already awful scent of the Nastirat explode to new heights of intensity. Seifer instinctively backed up, clapping his hand over his nose, mouth, and makeshift mask as his lungs seemed to seize in automatic revolt. Meanwhile the Nastirat keened and fell over, and before Seifer's eyes its corpse sagged and started evaporating into red gas. As its hide sloughed off, he literally see pockmarks forming in the station floor and Seifer backed up again. He only had one pair of shoes, after all.

 

The fight was short-lived after that. Either emboldened by his success or Quetzacotl's lightning attack, the mercs moved forward and took down the remaining Nastirats with the SeeDs. Seifer did his best to avoid his former colleagues but ended up working alongside a team that was trying to corner a particularly quick specimen. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, Seifer nevertheless hedged the Beast in with fireballs and let the SeeDs get it in position to summon Shiva against it. Before they could acknowledge his assistance, Seifer went away. He told himself he was _not_ running.

 

“Hey, you.”

 

Shit. Seifer walked faster, eyes on the 'Immigration' tunnel. He could probably get out of the station and all its stupid scanners from wherever the Beasts had come in.

 

“You, in the white jacket. Stop.”

 

Seifer pretended not to hear the voice and at the same time, steered toward a knot of mercenaries who were standing around joking as they healed their wounds. If he could put them between himself and whoever was following him, he could have a few seconds to run.

 

“I said _stop,”_ said an irate female voice and strong fingers closed around his upper arm. Seifer nearly wrenched away but turned instead, figuring he'd brought enough attention to himself for one day. He had no idea if it was a good or bad thing that the person who had hold of him was an Estharian soldier instead of a SeeD. Absently he noticed the colored plates on her skintight body armor were red instead of the usual purple or blue-green.

 

“Sorry, you were talking to me?” Seifer said innocently. Maybe he could mundane his way out of this interaction.

 

The Estharian soldier's eyeroll was almost visible despite her face-covering mask. “I saw you fight. You've got fire lore, yeah?”

 

“Yeah...” he said, not sure where this was going.

 

“We could use you in the XDI.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“Xenobiological Defense Initiative,” she recited, the complicated phrase falling as easily as water; probably due to saying it a lot. It sure wasn't any department Seifer had ever heard of, but the name was fairly straightforward. “We need heavy hitters to protect our eggheads when they're out in the field. You took down a Nastirat all by yourself _and_ you know how to work in a team. And I've never seen anybody step in with the SeeDs like that before. Usually mercs just get in their way.”

 

“ _It helps when you're trained as one of them,”_ Seifer couldn't help thinking. 

 

“It's steady work, you get housing and government benefits, food vouchers, and we'll give you the body armor and mask for basically free,” she said, her voice professional with an side of cajoling. Seifer shifted uncomfortably. It was a really sweet deal, but...

 

“I'm not looking for a job,” he said truthfully. “I got my heart set on being my own man.”

 

“Just use us for startup capital then,” she said, making Seifer scoff a bit at her persistence. “Get the funds to build your guild while doing something good for Esthar. The XDI's entire purpose is figuring out how to destroy Beasts and take back the surface.”

 

Seifer shifted again. The idea of helping directly fix the worst of his mistakes was very appealing, but that was still no reason to expose himself to the level of scrutiny a government job would require.

 

“Don't worry about your past,” said the soldier, making Seifer twitch a bit. “You're not the first person looking for a brand new start to come here.”

 

“Yeah, well...” Seifer decided to try another tactic. “I got a crazy ex in high places. So I can't do anything that puts my name out there. Sorry, but—”

 

“We can build a new identity for you.”

 

Damn it, they  _really_ wanted him. Seifer couldn't help but bristle a bit in suspicion. “All my records are completely burned. You'd have to rebuild me from the ground up and keep me out of my ex's eyes.”

 

“Who's your ex?”

 

“...Xu Xiong of Balamb Garden,” said Seifer, figuring 1, Xu probably hated him enough to actually make his life miserable if she had the opportunity and 2, her name as Headmaster was recognizable enough that someone would know why he wanted to keep his head down. Plus she probably had a bunch of exes. Lots of SeeDs did. The nearness of death in the bloody business made a lot of mercenaries as shameless as cats in heat whenever they had a moment to breathe, and Seifer could relate. If he hadn't been seeing Quistis, he'd probably have been the same.

 

“So unless you can make me an identity that SeeD can't crack—”

 

“Hard, but not impossible,” said the soldier in an airy way that made Seifer wonder if she'd done this before.

 

“Why do you want me so bad?” He had to know. “There's plenty of others here with more experience—”

 

“But not fire lore.”

 

“Why does that make a difference?”

 

“Because elemental lore is practically the only thing that takes the Beasts down,” said the soldier. “The SeeDs can fake it with their junctions and GF's, but there's only so many of them and they have to do cleanup everywhere. The XDI's working on stuff to level the playing field for everyone else, but until we do, we _need_ elemental lore users.”

 

Too bad Fujin and Raijin weren't here. Together, the three of them could have cleaned up... And then probably been outed in a flash. Seifer scowled a bit as he realized what had probably turned the hunters onto his tail.

 

“ _Damn it... Any other time, any other factors, I'd take this deal in a heartbeat. But they want me for probably one of the reasons someone's able to find me in the first place.”_

 

“So...?”

 

“I can't.”

 

“What's stopping you?”

 

“I just...” Seifer folded his arms, unspeakably irritated. “I can't.”

 

The soldier looked at him for a long time without saying anything, head tilted slightly to the side in a way that seemed weirdly familiar. After a while she sighed and shifted to rest her weight on her back heel.

 

“Okay, fine,” she said, but her tone of voice was not resigned. It was instead stubborn and determined. “I'm gonna show you one thing, okay? And then after that, you can make up your mind.”

 

“Fine,” said Seifer. Anything to make this persistent recruiter go away quicker. Personally he couldn't think of anything she could show him that would make him change his mind, but there was something to be said for curiosity and persistence.

 

The soldier reached for the weapon on her hip. Instead of the usual anchor-shaped blade blaster, there was a long slim saber like the kind used by cavalry hanging on a hand-worked leather belt, very incongruous against her otherwise modern appearance. Interestingly the blade was unsheathed and Seifer realized that it was dull. Pretty, though. It looked like it was made out of some sort of black marble with a satin finish, and the small hilt looked like it was covered in pure gold. But the part that caught and held Seifer's eye was the very pretty and very impractical-looking fuller made of crystal that went down the length of the blade and featured as a splintery-looking pommel. It reminded him of something like a rainbow diamond and just like the soldier's stance, seemed familiar. 

 

She held it out in no particularly special way and concentrated, and at once the air turned sharp and dry that put Seifer in the mindset of snow. A moment later, he knew why as ice flowered out of the crystal fuller and sheathed the dull blade in something that looked as clear and smooth as glass. It took less than a second and made the dull sword a proper weapon, and on an aesthetic level it just looked cool.

 

But that wasn't all. The soldier pointed at one of the sublimating chunks of Lunar Beast still with a form in the atrium and a blast of nearly invisible whitish power shot forth from the tip of the ice sword. It hit the chunk and spread, neatly encapsulating the flesh in more diamondlike ice and preventing it from poisoning the air anymore. The soldier slashed up at an empty wall and spears of ice not unlike what Edea had thrown when she was possessed came flying off the blade without diminishing its mass at all, and unconsciously Seifer's brows rose, impressed, as the icicles thudded into the wall in a perfect line with even spacing.

 

“Try it,” she said, dismissing the ice and handing Seifer the blade hilt-first.

 

“What is this thing?”

 

He could almost hear her smile as she said, “I'll tell you about it if you sign on.”

 

“I knew it,” he said, but took the sword anyway. It was skinnier and lighter than he was used to, but nevertheless balanced for his usual one-handed grip and also the length he liked. The rainbow glitter of the crystal fuller seemed to invite him to try it out, so with a thought Seifer pushed some fire lore against it like he was going to cover his long knives in flame. He yelled as white-hot fire burst from the crystal fuller and broadened the sword fivefold, and though the heat was intense, it was also just cool enough on his side that he felt nothing greater than shock. Meanwhile the soldier shielded her eyes and came around to his side.

 

“Can't do that with any old weapon,” she said smugly.

 

“Shut up,” said Seifer, but his heart wasn't in it. Actually his heart was singing with excitement and a glee he'd thought he'd lost when it came to power and glory. If ever there existed a weapon to reignite his disillusioned heart, this was it. He resisted the urge to start swinging like a madman and instead concentrated on pulling the fire into a smaller, tighter shape.

 

“Nice control,” the soldier remarked as the white fire coalesced and became a shining opaque blade with just the barest rainbow flicker in the middle. Seifer consciously did not form the flames to Hyperion's shape, opting instead for a plain double-edged sword he had seen a long time ago in a beloved movie. “Who taught you how to use your lore?”

 

“My family,” said Seifer, thinking of Edea's patience all those months ago when he had still been adjusting to all the changes Ultimecia's service had done on him. Fujin and Raijin had helped too, giving him tips and tricks from their childhoods that made them as versatile as they were now. 

 

“Oh yeah? Who'd you get the fire from?”

 

“My father,” Seifer admitted. It was apparently the birthright of the al-Masi family if the Elbaite bible and Seifer's memories were to be trusted.

 

“Neat,” said the soldier. She hooked her thumbs in her archaic sword belt and leaned back on her heels. “Well go on, try it out.”

 

“Inside?”

 

“Yeah. You know why we need fire? Because it burns up the miasma with no trace. Really useful for detoxifying places we're taking back.”

 

Now that she mentioned it, Seifer did notice that his nose and chest were burning in a way they usually felt after running hard for an hour. And there was a faint red haze in the air that seemed very ominous.

 

“If you burn it out, we can get the civilians off the trains,” she said, nodding at the parked and sealed vehicles. “Otherwise we have to wait for the fans and what, and that can take up to an hour... Which is no good for panicky civs in a tight space. You ever seen a riot inside a train? It's basically a meat grinder.”

 

Seifer glared, but the imagery combined with the fact that there were little kids in the trains made him slash at the air like it was a living target. A sweeping carpet of white flames that reminded him way too much of being under Ultimecia's control blazed through the air like a backdraft, but it passed so quickly that only a few people had time to even notice what had happened. When the flames cleared, there was no red haze in the air and Seifer noticed that taking a deep breath had a distinctly less knifelike feel to it. How about that?

 

“I'll have that back now,” said the soldier, holding out her hand, and for a rather long moment Seifer was tempted to make a break for it with the weapon. He really did need something with better reach, and this particular blade plus his fire lore would be way more powerful than all but the best gunblades. Heck, he could probably make it even act like one! But there were lots of soldiers around and he still didn't have papers or even a plan, so reluctantly Seifer dismissed the white flames and handed the sword back to the soldier. She took it back with a smirk he could practically feel and slid it through her archaic-looking sword belt, drawing Seifer's eye to the buckle on it with the motion. The belt was a prettily worked and well-maintained ancient leather, but the buckle was brightly polished steel and the pin on it was shaped like the red cross that had once decorated Seifer's sleeves. The ones that were the only trace he had of his birth family.

 

“Nice belt,” he managed to choke out before shock overwhelmed him.

 

“This old thing? Yeah, it's cool.” The soldier smoothed her hands over it. “Family heirloom.”

 

Family.  _Family._ As in, possibly HIS family. Shit. SHIT. “Hey, so... What's your name?”

 

“Eos,” she said, amused. Settling back on her heel, she said, “What's yours, Mr. Ex?”

 

“Let's just stick with that for now,” he said, his mind scrambling. He hadn't seriously given any thought to finding his blood family in Esthar, but now a possible member was right in front of him. He would be monumentally stupid not to make the most of the situation.

 

“So... Uh... The sword. Is that a family heirloom too?”

 

“Yeah. Sort of.” She thumbed the hilt. “There's twelve identical swords, or there were. We lost them during Adel's Reign and then the Lunar Cry. Now there's just this one and one more.”

 

“Only one more?”

 

“Yeah...” She sighed. “But that one won't ever go into the field. It's bad luck.”

 

“Bad luck? Why?”

 

“My uncle went out to fight Adel with it and it came back planted in the middle of his chest. So, bad luck.”

 

“Ah.” Seifer tried to figure out what to do next. He wanted to keep talking about Eos's family—his family?—but the only avenues of conversation he could figure out were stupid ones like _“What was your uncle's name?”_ and _“Did he have any kids?”_

 

“ _I could find out more information if I stayed close, but that means getting registered with the Estharian government and if they find out who I am, I am_ literally _going to get torn apart.”_

 

“But I got some other materia-core weapons,” said Eos in a cajoling tone. “And they're pretty sweet too. Come on, Mr. X... You can't say you're not tempted.”

 

He was. He really, truly, deeply was. Surely there had to be a way to get  _some_ of what he wanted!

 

“Let me try out the gig and I'll think about it,” Seifer said, figuring a wild shot was better than nothing. “I'll take my payment in cash. If I like it, maybe I'll stick around.”

 

“ _Long enough for some answers, anyway... And definitely a longer weapon.”_

 

Eos sighed, but after a moment held out her hand with a smile in her voice. “Lucky for you, I've got a budget for stuff like this. Follow me, Mr. X. Your trial run starts now if you can handle it.”

 

Seifer clasped her hand and hoped he wasn't making the second biggest mistake of his life. “Bring it on.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I went through so many drafts about this and I think I finally hit the right amount of serendipity without being too contrived. It was not easy. The very first drafts had some serious mystical magical BS going on that was pretty cool but also totally out of step with both fic and game universe feel. So this.

 

Next couple of chapters will be very Seifer-centric, so just a heads-up in case that bothers people for some reason :P

 

Random funny, Eos was originally named 'Halil'. It has been that way for near over a year and I don't know where I got the name from, but thank goodness I checked the meaning of it and realized it was actually a boy name. And not like how 'Michelle' is the feminine form of 'Michael'. Oops. Yaaay internet.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	36. Chapter 36

To: Zero

From: Scarlet

 

I thought taking nearly three weeks off from training would be enough, but Norg says my body is still too unstable to practice transformations. Apparently it's the way I smell, though considering his nasal passages are probably shorter than my pinky finger, who knows. I've been prescribed more monster meat meals, some of the tea Makine drinks, and more resting time. Fortunately there are other things I can do with blue magic. Now that I've been training with Norg and Makine, it's easier for me to make sense of some of the things in the Blue Magic Tome, particularly the sections about refining existing skills. I am now working on refining the White Wind to heal status effects in addition to restoring health, but the other day I tried firing a Laser Eye and was able to get two beams in parallel instead of just one. It's very exciting. I almost wish I could stay longer, but I miss being out in the world the longer I'm away from it. I miss seeing my friends—the old gang, X, and you of course. I'm sure we'll both have a lot to talk about when we see each other again. I love you.

 

/\

 

To: Scarlet

From: Zero

 

I've been keeping busy here too. Lots of work at my semiregular gig since they had me guarding samples for a while. Of course, I did so well they want to send me up top in a team and it's about damn time though the eggheads fretted about it. “Very dangerous,” they kept saying; I guess most of their hires die that way and they kinda want me to stick around. Even so, the pay is really good and it's not like I've got much to worry about since my “advantages” have been working out really well.

 

You know, I might even have enough money for a boat soon. One of my very own.

 

Understandably, there are risks since it's a big purchase and someone could track it. Then again, I could sail in and sail out before anyone knew to look. Of course, I'd have to teach you how to sail too. Only time I want you overboard is when we're skinny-dipping in the warm waters around Centra.

 

/\/\/\

 

“X! Hurry up!”

 

“Hold your fucking chocobos!” Seifer shouted back as he finished checking his coded letter and hit 'send'. In retrospect it would have been quicker to type 'I love you too' but this way he got to relay more information. Plus it seemed hokey to write the words out instead of properly saying them in person, though seeing the letters on the screen did send a warm rush through his chest and make him smile. Surely cracking the easy code would make Quistis smile too. Tossing the encrypted phone in his assigned locker, Seifer took another moment to make sure his disguise bracelets weren't going to rub his wrists raw and then touched his neck to assure himself the blinding fabric was braided tight into the chain of his necklace. Esthar was lousy with cameras above- and below-surface but apparently nobody had noticed that his face didn't show up on them. Anywhere else in the world the jig would have been up the instant they needed to take an ID photo, but in Esthar they used retinal scans and Seifer knew that his were not on file: in SeeD, footprints, fingerprints, and dental records were used instead. Of course, most of the time SeeDs were looking to identify dead bodies rather than chase down living suspects and retinal-scan tech was practically unheard of, so he was not worried about his eyeprint being on file.

 

“ _Bracelets good, necklace good... Helmet, here. Alright. I guess I'm set for upstairs.”_

 

Seifer wasn't going to pull on the mask just yet, but the rest of him was otherwise completely covered in body armor. It was an older make than the current armored flexsuits and actually looked like armor, but Seifer thought it suited him better and was probably hardier than the current stuff. There was a slight loss in speed and mobility, but it wasn't like he somersaulted in the field.

 

“Done fixing your hair?” Eos asked as he exited the locker room. Without her military mask on, she was a rather handsome woman with sharp grey eyes and sharper cheekbones framed by long and slightly wavy red-gold hair. When she wasn't trying to sell a spot in the XDI's rapidly turning over freelance base, she had a slightly sardonic way of speaking that amused Seifer as much as it got on his nerves, and his initial impression they were related just became stronger with each passing day. He had no idea what he looked like to her, but Seifer thought Eos looked like a female version of him some ten years in the future and found it hard not to stare at her whenever they spent time together: being around someone who resembled him so strongly was irresistibly fascinating. And it wasn't just her looks, either: Eos acted and reacted similarly to Seifer too, and she was appropriately bossy for being the head of the XDI's hiring division, which was a big reason why she had felt comfortable making the promises she had.

 

“Turn around,” Eos said, gesturing. “Gotta make sure you've got it on right.”

 

“I've put on body armor before,” he said, nevertheless turning around.

 

“Yeah, but this one's gotta be airtight and these heavy models shear the flex lining sometimes. You checked for holes, didn't you?”

 

“ _Yes._ It's my skin on the line.”

 

“Literally.” She looked him over, poked the gaps between the armored plates in a few places, and then nodded. “Looks alright. Helmet.”

 

Seifer rolled his eyes but handed her the helmet with its built-in mask. Normal military helmets looked like mantis heads, but the filters required for miasma detox made them look more antlike and were just big enough that they hit the wearer's chest if one looked straight down. Supposedly the XDI was working on improving the design.

 

After satisfying her curiosity, Eos led Seifer through the halls of the XDI. The Xenobiological Defense Initiative had quarters both above and belowground with multiple floors between for scientists, soldiers, freelancers to all work and live. Seifer stayed in a boardinghouse in the main city, however: he didn't want to expose himself to further government scrutiny. Eos was annoyed at his caginess but didn't say much about it since Seifer made himself available for lots of little jobs requiring a touch of fire. Howwever, she tried to entice him to hire on full-time by extending courtesies like a locker of his own in the main building and locating a surface-suit for even more high-paying gigs. Seifer recognized the bribes but accepted them anyway. He was rethinking borrowing the suit, however: it had a faint but gut-churning aroma of concentrated sweat with a note of urine.

 

“ _I've got to get my own suit,”_ thought Seifer as he and Eos walked the halls, and a second later he had to check himself. _“No. It's too much to carry and it's too identifiable. Borrowing's fine for now.”_

 

Still, the borrowed suit was tight and stiff across the shoulders and the pelvic armor was tight in a way that could not be explained by his incredible ass. By the time Seifer got to the lift, he was low-level annoyed and that did not bode well for the surface trip. On the other hand, because he was going to the surface, Eos had brought a materia-core weapon for him to use and that was definitely exciting for more reason than one.

 

“You said you had some halberd experience, right?”

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, which was technically not a lie. He hadn't spent so much time with Raijin without picking up a working knowledge of staff and pole, and he figured whatever he didn't know he could cover up with fireballs. The main point was that nobody would ever associate Seifer Almasy with anything but a gunblade.

 

“Here you go,” said Eos, handing Seifer a long spear made of the same black marble-like material as her sword. The crystal part on this weapon was a single shard about ten inches long and surrounded on all sides by the black stuff, and when Seifer fed a little lore into it, flames spread out like a pair of wings on either side.

 

“Neat,” said Eos, hooking her thumbs in her belt. It seemed to be her go-to posture. “I get a spike when I try that.”

 

Seifer willed the flames tight again, forming them into a glaive-like blade that gave him an additional two feet of reach. It was not as easy to make the shapes he wanted with this weapon as it had been with the sword and he wondered if it had something to do with the lesser amount of materia in the weapon. There was probably a third as much in this spear as there was in Eos's sword.

 

“So what is this materia stuff anyway?” Seifer asked as he dismissed the fire. “You keep talking about it but you never said what it is.”

 

“Well, do you want the woowoo explanation or the science?”

 

“...Give me the science.”

 

“You know what chargestone is, right?”

 

“Yeah, you stick para-magic in it.”

 

“Materia's the best form of that,” said Eos, jerking her chin at the spear. “Comes off in nice big chunks, holds a lot of power, and more than that, it amplifies like nobody's business. It's why lore users get so much out of it. But there's not a lot of it around. Supposedly there was a huge deposit in Centra before the Lunar Cry blasted the Empire to smithereens.”

 

That seemed logical enough. “What's the woowoo explanation?”

 

“It's the crystallized lifeblood of our planet,” Eos deadpanned, and Seifer snorted. She laughed. “Yeah, right? But that's why the Lunar Cry blasted Centra. Apparently, 'Terra grew jealous of the fertility of its green neighbor and unleashed a red rage to strike Gaia's heart'.”

 

“What?”

 

“Some fairytales my gramma used to tell me when I was a kid,” said Eos with a good-natured eyeroll. “Anyway according to that version, Centra's a desert since the continent basically got stabbed and the materia is essentially pieces of a giant clot. So, you ready to go?”

 

“As soon as the eggheads get here,” he said, folding his arms and standing the spear upright like Raijin did with his staff when he was waiting around. “And the rest of the squad.”

 

“Then let's beat them inside for the good seats.”

 

The XDI's lift to the surface was very large and had comfortable couches around its perimeter with more seats in the middle. Seifer and Eos claimed seats near the back and over the next ten minutes, everyone else filtered in. Seifer noted the eggheads carrying slim computers and specialized tools and for the most part were just like workers doing a mundane job all over the world; they talked easily and joked, and the only indication of the danger of their job was that their humor was understandably morbid. One of the scientists was a self-styled “Miss Jane”, a freelance biologist Seifer had seen around the XDI a few times. He was surprised she was coming up since she was a civilian and part-time at best, but he supposed her presence was absolutely necessary for the current mission.

 

There were soldiers and another freelancer on the lift too. They all carried weapons with hard light technology or at the very least, lasers, and while the shininess of their weapons stirred a certain aesthetic envy in Seifer's heart, he knew that point for point he was going to hit a lot harder with his spear.

 

“ _And I'd hit even harder with a sword... Maybe I can get Eos to switch with me.”_

 

It seemed to take the lift a solid fifteen minutes before they came to the surface, and at once there was a shuffling as everyone put on their masks, helmets, and goggles in case of heavy miasma exposure. The lift opened into an airlock that everyone filed into, and Seifer noticed the elevator doors shutting and the lift itself going down before the airlock started hissing softly. He frowned a bit as the air seemed to become vaguely cloudy.

 

“That's really the air,” said Eos with a bit of grim understanding. “You're not seeing things.”

 

“His first time up?” A scientist asked.

 

“Yeah,” said Seifer, seeing no reason to lie.

 

“He's an immigrant,” said Eos, making the scientist grunt in understanding.

 

The airlock doors opened onto a structure that at first seemed as bright and clean as anything in New Esthar. But as everyone filtered out and began organizing into squads based on their duties, Seifer noticed what looked like corrosion on the floors and in the corners. And the air in this structure was even foggier, which boded ill.

 

Today's mission was simple: drop a device into an infested structure, get back, and push a little button to see what their device took down. With any luck they could start to repel Beasts instead of burning lots of energy killing them and getting back to the surface would be that much quicker. Eos took point and after looking around, pointed towards the north.

 

“Highest concentration of LB's this way,” she said. When Seifer cocked his head questioningly, she tapped her helmet and said, “Special issue. Picks up on the buggers' heat signatures. Let's move out!”

 

The lift was located inside what had used to be a shopping arcade, and the further out they got toward the exits, the more the signs of destruction increased. It started with broken glass and cracked walls, but escalated into half-melted structures that were either due to fire or some sort of acid, and the dry, decomposing tatters of garbage on the cracked floors painted an eloquent picture of civilization gone awry. When they exited the mall, Seifer looked up and down a street that had once been made of blue plasti-glass, which was everywhere in New Esthar. But here, there was no road. There were separated pockets and islands of what had once been walking streets, and when Seifer looked overhead, broken pieces of hover tubes tilted crookedly like old weathervanes. And the sky was unmistakably, unrelentingly red.

 

They moved quickly and carefully, forcing Seifer to scan continuously for movement and possible danger. It kept his mind off the wreck he'd made of an entire country, though when they took a quick break to eat and drink, Seifer found himself standing guard in a position that let him look out on as much of the country as he could see. He could see an awful lot even with the red mist that hung heavy in the air and fogged out the horizon. Buildings were smashed and melted, there were old corpses and monster bones in the roads, and most chillingly of all, Seifer could see what looked like a pile of bleached, half-melted skeletons less than fifty feet from where he was standing. The closest one to him was a big skeleton holding the hand of a small one about half its size, and the other hand was curled around what looked like a pet carrier. The blackening on the missing lower extremities of both skeletons made it clear how these particular people had died. There was no burn on the pet carrier, which was facedown. Thank god for small blessings.

 

“Not all of the evacuations were successful,” said a female voice softly from his shoulder, and Seifer whipped around so fast that he nearly wrenched his neck. It was Miss Jane, scratching the side of her helmet like she could reach her cheek and rocking a little. From what Seifer had seen of her, she seemed constitutionally incapable of standing still or in speaking in anything above a whisper.

 

“Most people got down okay,” she said quietly. “But sometimes the doors didn't work or there were failures in the lifts. And when the monsters reached Esthar proper and broke through the wall, there wasn't anything anyone could do. Most of the army died trying to choke them off at Tears' Point, so...”

 

Seifer swallowed hard. He wanted to run from the sight of the bones, from the surface, from Esthar, but forced himself to look even as fever and chills raced throughout his body, making him feel nauseous in a way that was more than just physical.

 

“ _Everyone is dead,”_ Squall said somberly in his memory.

 

“ _There are consequences for actions,”_ Quistis murmured.

 

“ _Why would anyone do that?”_ Selphie whispered. 

 

“ _I thought she needed me,”_ Seifer protested, but his excuse was wearing so painfully thin even to his own ears. _“I really thought she_ needed _me...”_

 

“They're calling us,” Miss Jane said, cocking her head slightly. “We should go.”

 

Seifer nodded and as she turned away, he shut his eyes against a burning that he could not say was from miasma. Fuck everything.

 

The target location was a wrecked hospital that had been taken over by Red Hornets. The bottom floors had collapsed under the acidic blood and powerful attacks of Lunar Beasts and currently leaned at an angle just steep enough to make people climb instead of walk. Inside, nests of small, venomous Beasts had taken up residence in what had used to be waiting rooms and OR's, and here half the fighters went forward to clear the Beasts while the other half hung back to protect the eggheads. When it was his turn to fight, Seifer channeled the sickness in his heart into savage swings that sheared through walls and floors: materia-core weapons augmented with fire had never been meant to used in close quarters and Estharian buildings had never been made to withstand assaults from a SeeD. For the first time in Seifer's life, though, the destruction didn't help. The dying shrieks of the Red Hornets, the dog-sized wasps with stingers long and hard enough to go through armor, didn't help either. The more he moved, the more his vision seemed to cloud with the red miasma that he'd called onto the earth. Seifer's chest burned with guilt and furious, seething resentment.

 

“ _It's not fair._ She _didn't have to see what our actions wrought. But it wouldn't have stopped her. She wouldn't have cared. She needed me, alright, like she needed a screwdriver or a wrench. She needed a slave with a blade. She_ never _needed me, and I did_ all of this _for her... For nothing!”_

 

Every Beast Seifer cut through seemed to make him angrier. They exploded like bombs, making his ears ring. His eyes watered from an acrid, ammonia-like scent that also burned his nose and made it unpleasant to breathe. Seifer could see how the red fluid that seemed to comprise a Lunar Beast's entire innards ate away at the surroundings, reducing organic and inorganic tissues to pockmark-riddled ruins of their original selves. Somehow in his eyes, the red fluid was exactly the same as Ultimecia's robe and half in trance, Seifer looked up and saw the Bitch Witch herself standing in front of him. Immediately Seifer slashed at the phantasm, hitting air that rippled with rainbow flames and thought he heard a mocking laugh in the roar of the fire.

 

“ _Oh for fuck's sake! Isn't it enough that I see her in my nightmares?!”_

 

“X!”

 

“What?!”

 

“Fall back,” Eos said firmly, making him whirl on her with a glare. “You nearly hit me and Nazar with that last swing and your blade's starting to go all floppy.”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

Eos just gave him a look that somehow penetrated the lenses of her helm and furiously Seifer held the spear out to show that everything was just fine. To his dismay, the spear of flame he'd created at the start was thinning to translucency and breaking into cherry red flickers as they escaped.

 

“Floppy,” said Eos, dragging the syllables out for emphasis. Seifer snarled. Any other word probably wouldn't have annoyed him so much, but then again that was probably why Eos was using it.

 

“Let's just drop this thing and get out,” said one of the scientists, looking nervously around. In his hands was something that looked like a landmine made out of a car battery and in theory, it was supposed to emit infrasound that the Beasts would find highly irritating. “Are we anywhere near the center yet?”

 

“Just a bit,” said Eos, who never seemed to be in a bad temper. To Seifer she said, “Fall back and watch the rear so I can take point and guide us in. Okay?”

 

Seifer grumbled but let Eos take the lead. He did not like being handled like this, but the sight of his fading fires penetrated the angry fog and Seifer used the relative peace of the rearguard to reform and tighten the blade. His head ached with the effort, matching a general soreness across his forearms and waist that told him he wasn't as fit as he'd used to be. Then again, he'd never fought with a polearm for real and without practice and actual knowledge, he was probably flailing around like a first-year with a training stick. If only he had a damn sword like Eos's! As Seifer watched the older woman fight, he couldn't help but seethe as he saw all the ways he could fight so much better. Not that she was bad, far from it, but Eos was not as good as he was. Heck, she wasn't even as good as Leonhart was. She had simply not been trained as he knew training and rather uncharitably he thought without her ice lore, she would have been iced long ago. But since the same could be said for him and his fire, Seifer kept his mouth shut.

 

Eventually they came to an atrium-like area that was free of monsters in a way that seemed straight out of a horror movie. There were no Beasts to be seen or heard, but in the center of the room was a pulsating jellylike mass bigger than a truck and covered with a unnerving number of what looked like eyes.

 

“Who the fuck glued all the Blobras together?” Seifer muttered as they came up to the jelly-like mass pulsating slowly in the center of the room.

 

“That's a Royal Jelly. A Red Hornet nest,” said Miss Jane, making Seifer and the squad first look at her and then strain to hear her. “Dr. Piet Anthony thinks the Lunar Beasts are sterile clones, but look—there's still larvae inside it. See those white balls? That's probably how they came down in the Cry.”

 

“I thought those were eyeballs,” said Seifer, narrowing his eyes. Now that he was looking at them, he could see the faint delineation of chinitous shells and the lacy pattern of developing wings.

 

“No. They're Red Hornet grubs.” Then Miss Jane giggled, and even if they hadn't been in the middle of a monster nest and her voice hadn't been so high and soft, it still would have been creepy as fuck. Seifer felt his skin crawl as she said, “I knew I should have taken a couple of forcecages with me. All the things I could learn...”

 

Suddenly the gel-like mass of translucent red heaved and three 'eyeballs' on the mass wriggled and popped free, turning a deep scarlet red as soon as they touched the air and swelling to triple their starting size. In seconds, three fully formed Red Hornets were fanning their expanding wings and flexing their deadly stingers. 

 

Seifer raised his spear but the scientist with the mine stepped forward, mashed a couple of buttons in a very quick and precise order, and then all but hurled it at the blob. “Run!” He shrilled. “Run run run! Shouldn't hurt humans, but let's not find out!”

 

“Let's move,” said Eos, looking around at the crumbling, half-melted halls. “Don't want to get caught in a tight space like this.”

 

“What, we're just gonna leave that behind us?” Seifer demanded as the group turned.

 

Eos pointed at the mine, which had fallen about five feet away from the blob. “That's the mission. Not the jelly pile. Now move out.”

 

“We're going to get stabbed in the back.”

 

“Only if _you_ don't do your job, Exxy-boy. Now move out.”

 

“ _Of all the stupid shortsighted dumbfuck things!”_ Seifer glared at Eos and then raised his spear, concentrating as much fire lore as he could manage into the materia shard in the point. Whacking the jelly would take care of at least twelve Red Hornets-to-be and they'd thank him for saving someone the trouble of killing them later. Distracted by the effort, Seifer was not prepared for Eos crossing the distance between them in two strides, grabbing him by the neck, and slamming him against the floor hard enough to knock the air out of him. As he dragged a gasp through the filters on his mask, Seifer battled with a sense of shock that Eos had escalated so quickly. Even in SeeD, no one had dared to lay him out without so much as a verbal warning. 

 

“ _You_ are not in charge!” She barked, all trace of humor and camaraderie gone from her voice. “And if you cannot take orders, you cannot be in the field! Now get up and guard the rear, unless that's too hard for you.”

 

Seifer seethed. The first rule every SeeD learned was not to question the person in command on a mission, but it was a rule Seifer had always broken without hesitation whenever he thought obedience would lead to death. This case was worse than previous cases too: they had civilians who could not protect themselves and would probably get everyone else killed in their panic. On the other hand, Eos had the 'argue with me and I'll kill you' tone in her voice, which Seifer recognized because his sounded exactly the same. And since  _ he  _ never used that certain tone unless he was serious, there was a good chance Eos was too. 

 

“ _Fine. Fuck you. And if we lose the civs, we'll know why.”_

 

He held up his hands in silent assent and Eos let him up. Though they were both helmeted, a silent glare passed between them and Seifer's ears started burning in anticipation of a solid reaming later.

 

They left quickly, managing to escape before the Red Hornets fully sensed and objected to their presence. Fortunately their route in was still clear and in a short while, they were outside the broken hospital. Seifer expected the scientist who had placed the mine to slow down then, but the slightly heavyset man kept running with a certain panic to his stride that made Seifer wonder just exactly what the mine was supposed to do. So they kept running until they were about a city block away, which was both when the scientist's endurance ran out and when he finally turned around and pulled a remote out of his pocket. Leaning over to rest on his knees, he wordlessly passed the device to Miss Jane as he gasped for breath. She giggled unnervingly again and pushed a button.

 

Anticlimatically there was no noise. A solid three seconds went by without any movement from the broken-down hospital.

 

“A dud,” said Miss Jane, almost singsonging the words. “Too bad.”

 

“Wait... For...” puffed the scientist, but before he got to 'it', Red Hornets started flying out of the building. Not in a leisurely way either, but like they were being chased. A smattering turned into a swarm and soon the air was filled with an overloud droning of terrible wings that made Seifer's teeth ache.

 

“Is that supposed to happen?” One of the soldiers asked no one in particular.

 

“Yep,” said the scientist, straightening. Unconsciously wiping his hand across his helmeted forehead, he said, “Now we go home and monitor the progress from afar.”

 

The walk back to the lift was uneventful but tense as Eos ignored Seifer and he ignored her right back. Since he was still bringing up the rear and she was in front, the entire group felt their irritation and said nothing except for Miss Jane, who hummed absently as she kept her eyes solidly on the monitoring device on the backside of the remote. One of her fellow scientists held her by the arm to steer her around potholes and sections of cracked road.

 

As they neared the lift, Eos abruptly held her arm up and the group stopped. Automatically Seifer looked around to see the potential problem but Eos neither moved nor spoke, and gradually the tension crept up to a raw-nerved anxiety that had the civilians ready to bolt. After what seemed like forever, Eos turned slightly toward Seifer.

 

“X, how you running on lore?”

 

“Fine,” he said shortly, though he wasn't sure what she meant.

 

“Can you project outside your body yet?”

 

“What?”

 

“Never mind.” Slightly louder, she said to the whole group, “Alraune pollen up ahead. Put your masks on max and walk _slow._ I'm putting up a tunnel. X, you fireball anything that comes at us. Miss Jane, you know what to do.”

 

“I sure do,” said Miss Jane in a slightly stronger version of her whispery singsong as she handed the monitoring device to one of her fellow scientists. It was then that Seifer noticed Miss Jane had elbow-length gloves on instead of built-in ones like everybody else and his brows rose when she removed them to have her hands exposed to the semitoxic air. There were close-fitting silver bracelets on both wrists with pretty orange-red enameling, but when Seifer blinked the colored designs were blue. The hell?

 

“If anybody feels dizzy, starts seeing things, or feels like hitting their teammates, go to Miss Jane at once,” said Eos, holding her sword out in front of her. A second later, ice started blooming around her in an arch and thickening to be at least six inches deep. As Eos walked forward steadily, the ice grew out ahead of her to become the start of a respectable tunnel. When she had about ten feet behind her, Eos jerked her head and the group moved forward.

 

The lift was about a city block away, but it might as well have been a mile for as slowly as they crept on. The civilians were sweating so hard it was practically audible and even the soldiers were jumpy. Miss Jane walked with a loose readiness in her joints that seemed like she was happily expecting trouble, but Seifer ignored that in favor of scanning the surroundings. Eos's elemental ice was as clear and smooth as glass, but separated into hexagonal panes like splintery snowflakes that distorted his view of the outside.

 

“ _The hell am I supposed to be looking for?”_ Seifer couldn't help but grumble to himself. He knew the name 'Alraune' from a basic bestiary Eos had made him read before coming up, but the Alraune itself was basically a city-block sized Ochu (stationary, thank god) and its Confusion-causing pollen was invisible. Seifer kept looking at the civilians to make sure they weren't acting squirrelly—

 

“This is incredibly pathetic,” Ultimecia murmured in his ear, making Seifer hiss and whip around. No one was behind him but unfortunately, one of the civs spotted Seifer jerk and screamed in response. This in turn startled the soldiers, who immediately spun out and raised their weapons. The entire group froze in place for way too long, though Miss Jane just cocked her head and looked at Seifer.

 

“Anything?” Eos called from the front of the formation.

 

“No,” said Seifer, angry he'd reacted so badly to nothing.

 

“Then we keep going.”

 

They continued creeping forward even as Seifer's skin started crawling under the armor. He hadn't been nervous before but now he kept glancing around for a dreaded glance of deep scarlet or blue-black feathers. When another murmur came in his ear, Seifer gritted his teeth and kept his eyes forward. He was only supposed to go to Miss Jane if he _saw_ something, right? Right. Other than some annoying noise, he was _fine._

 

“Once upon a time, you had pride and confidence,” said Ultimecia, her voice full of disappointed scorn. “Now you crawl along in the dirt desperately hoping—depending—on these people to like you. I see now that my plan failed because I was using _flawed tools.”_

 

“Your plan failed because it was a shitty plan,” Seifer hissed, keeping his voice low enough so any words would be lost in the mechanical exhale of the mask filters. Even so Miss Jane glanced over her shoulder at him and Seifer looked away. Ultimecia chuckled humorlessly and Seifer swore something settled on his back.

 

“My plain failed because I needed a True Knight, a true partner, and you broke under the demands of the position.”

 

It was easier to cuss out Ultimecia when he didn't have to look at her. Just the memory of how she appeared in that impossible red gown with those long, twisted wings and the hornlike crest of her silver hair made Seifer physically ill with the realization of all the 'off' things he had ignored. Never again. “You dragged me kicking and screaming from a life I wanted, and it's _my_ fault you didn't become a god? Piss off.”

 

“So you come crawling back to any semblence of the life you think you should have had, hmm? And somehow that makes things _better?_ ” Her voice turned mocking. “Oh, but this is temporary, is it not? You only wish to find out about your family. A family you would not even know about except for me.”

 

“Bullshit. Quistis gave me a name.”

 

“And yet here you are, chasing a crest on a belt and a pretty sword rather than the name 'Labdanum'. You would not even think to look in Esthar if not for my intervention.”

 

“I would have. It's the only place in the world I hadn't looked before. I would have come here sooner or later.”

 

“X.” It was Miss Jane, now walking but turned sideways to look at him. “What are you doing?”

 

“What do you mean?” Seifer asked 'innocently' as Ultimecia chuckled.

 

“You're muttering to yourself.”

 

“Can't a man bitch to himself?”

 

“I've never heard someone bitch to themselves with conversational pauses before.”

 

Seifer scowled. He missed the nervous and inattentive Miss Jane.

 

“You should kill her,” said Ultimecia out of nowhere. “She will expose your little subterfuge.”

 

“ _Fuck you,”_ he thought at Ultimecia. He didn't dare speak since Miss Jane was still looking at him. 

 

“Or else you will once more run away,” Ultimecia taunted, making Seifer clench his jaw. “Where to this time, I wonder? Trabia? Above the ruins of the Garden so you can further flagellate yourself? It _would_ be so utterly predictable, would it not, to go down among the graves and tidy the tombstones? Or perhaps rebuild that wreck to cover your imagined sins?”

 

“ _There's nothing wrong with wanting to make things right.”_

 

“You foolish boy. There is no 'making things right'. There is only what was, what is, and what will be.” The sursurrous shuffling of overlarge wings seemed to itch against Seifer's ears, phantom feathers brushing his cheeks inside the mask. Seifer resisted the urge to rip off his helmet and scratch.

 

“You _were_ glorious. You _are_ pathetic. And you _will be_ nothing if you continue down this mediocre path.”

 

“ _Fuck you! I'll be alive, I'll be with the people I love, and—”_

 

“You will merely be living, not truly alive. As for the people you love, where are they? Your dedicated cohorts are half a world away and the one whom you think you love is even further gone, walking a path where you cannot tread. Tell me, boy, how long do you think it will be until your lovely Quistis Trepe finds a blue mage man who understands better than you ever will and whose love she does not have to hide?”

 

“Incoming!” One of the soldiers shouted, covering Seifer cursing at Ultimecia. Seifer looked around and saw what looked like a floating pumpkin on a lace tablecloth wafting toward the ice tunnel, seemingly aimless but for the dreadful grin on its face. Like most Lunar Beasts it was red, but the translucent quality of its frondlike shroud made it seem more unearthly than the usual. It was a really stupid-looking Beast, but it was something to hit and at the moment, that was all Seifer wanted to do. Though... Damn it.

 

“ _It's a fuckin' Funny Face,”_ Seifer recalled sourly from the bestiary. It was in a section marked “do not engage” because once injured, the Funny Face vented pheromones that summoned every Lunar Beast in a five-block radius. He assumed everybody else knew that too, but apparently someone did not or had a goddamn brain fart because Seifer saw one of the soldiers raise his weapon.

 

“Don't!” He shouted but it was like seeing the gratuitous reveal in a horror movie—as though in slow motion, Seifer saw the soldier's finger tighten on the trigger of his anchor-shaped weapon, and true to XDI standard, pulses of blue laser light flashed out inside of bullets to crack through the ice wall and hit the Funny Face in its pumpkin-shaped head. It jerked backwards as though on a string and for one eternal moment seemed like it would melt like every other Beast when hit in a lethal place.

 

Instead, its skin peeled off its face like it was a boiled potato and it started  _screaming._

 

The ice tunnel seemed to shiver and a second later started to frost and turn opaque. At the same time Eos roared from the front of the formation, “Run! Run like hell! Get to the lift before it spores on us!”

 

“ _Or it could not,”_ thought Seifer as he gathered his lore in the tip of the spear. As the group started pelting for the lift, Seifer all but itched to get past the clot of panicking scientists and when they didn't move fast enough, he kicked and slashed through the ice wall to get to his target. He could see the fabled pheromones boiling out of the Funny Face's skinned mouth like a geyser, its frothy undercarriage apparently fueling the blast as it went up like a handkerchief in flames. Seifer jabbed like he had seen Raijin do a thousand times before and a blast of white fire as thick and long as his arm shot from the materia shard like an arrow. It hit the Funny Face in the division between its flayed head and the frilly bottom half and instantly engulfed the Beast in flame. The red mist of pheromones cut off as though with a knife, but still rose upwards in a solid red haze. Seifer swung at it and set the cloud on fire with a second blast of flame. 

 

“ _Not bad,”_ he thought before the Funny Face promptly exploded loud enough to make Seifer's ears pop. Automatically he summoned his shield as a roiling wave of red miasma poured forth and the stuff boiled away before it even touched him. 

 

“X, get onto the lift right now,” shouted Eos right next to his ear, but when Seifer turned he realized she'd used a radio hookup to speak into his helmet. His distraction had bought the rest of the group time to get to the lift, and after checking the area to make sure there was nothing about, he took off too. It was about two hundred feet away now, very doable at a sprint. When he arrived, everyone else as gasping for breath and no few looked ashen at their brush with near-death. Only Eos seemed calm, but of course she was the leader and had to look that way.

 

“Nice job with the rear,” she told him, her tone professional and calm. “Come to my office when we're down below.”

 

Seifer narrowed his eyes but just nodded. Now that he wasn't in battle, his head was buzzing like he hadn't slept in days and with a grumble, Seifer realized he'd overdone it with the fire. When he got to this point, pushing it any further would result in lackluster or no flames at all and also a killer headache that thankfully sleep would take care of. When everyone was loaded onto the lift and sealed into clean air, Seifer pulled his helmet off and knuckled his temples in an attempt to get rid of the oppressive pressure building up in his skull. At least the feeling of Ultimecia's presence was gone, and her voice too. 

 

“Tired?” Eos asked. She was not sitting by him now; rather, she was across the lift and apparently logging something into the terminal.

 

“I'm fine.”

 

“Mm. Filters good?”

 

“They're fine.”

 

“Fine, fine, fine,” Eos muttered, her fingers flashing over the terminal keys. “You're just like—Hey! Wairen.”

 

“Yes, Commander?”

 

“You're buried 'til you pass the basic exam at 100%. Or did you not remember what shooting a Funny Face does?”

 

“I'm sorry Commander, I just—”

 

“Don't be sorry, just _ever_ don't do it again _.”_ Eos kept typing, not looking to see how the steel in her voice totally cut the feet out from under poor stupid Wairen, now wilting with shame. Seifer would have smirked if not for the feeling Eos would be giving him a verbal asskicking as soon as they were in her office. On the other hand, she had praised him... So maybe things were even and not potentially annoying. And if that was true, why would she want to talk with him?

 

“ _Maybe she'll let me have the other sword... I'd be way more effective with it.”_

 

Eos shifted her stance, making the polished Zodiac Cross buckle on her belt flash in the light. Seifer folded his arms and huffed a little. Ultimecia's jab about him not finding out about his family stuck in his head like a wire in his ear canal, but a whole month of working for the XDI later and he still had no idea how to ask Eos about her family. They were friendly, sure, but he didn't want to make her think he was flirting with her by being too interested. Even if he hadn't been dating Quistis, the idea of inadvertently coming onto a family member was just... Ugh.

 

When the lift landed back the XDI, everyone filtered out at varying speeds except for Miss Jane. She looked at Seifer suspiciously, an expression which pinched her already narrow face into a decided triangle shape and turned her narrow eyes into little slashes in her face. The high cast of her nose and cheekbones were definitely Estharian but Seifer could not place what exact region she came from since her skin was the exact middle between the pale northern Trabian-Estharians and the deep black of the Centran-Estharians. And while her hair was blonde, the texture was the kind that coiled and locked on its own when she started twirling it around her fingers.

 

“Don't think I won't be watching you,” she whispered in an ominous tone. And then she left, still fiddling with her hair.

 

“The hell is wrong with her,” Seifer grumbled and then jumped as he heard Eos's voice. Apparently she hadn't gone out just yet.

 

“Lots of things that don't concern you. Follow me.”

 

“I know where your damn office is, Eos.”

 

“Shut up,” she said, but her voice was back to its usual comfortable joking tone so Seifer assumed they were okay.

 

Eos's office in the XDI was close to the lift as befitting a commander and surprisingly spacious considering the overall lack of room in New Esthar, or so Seifer thought until he caught the telltale seams of foldaway and hidden furniture and realized Eos probably lived out of her workspace. Her desk was a large built-in piece toward one end of the room and there were three large screens set along the leftmost wall like windows, all of them showing a pleasant forest scene and emitting a light like sunlight. It seemed a bit whimsical for what Seifer knew of Eos but he kept his opinions to himself as she went to her desk, opened up the inset terminal, and fiddled with it for a moment.

 

“Good job on the retreat today,” she said, not looking up from the computer. “Smart of you to vaporize the spores before they got on us.”

 

“I thought they were pheromones.”

 

“Short-term, yes. Long-term, spores.” She tapped her nose (she had taken off her helmet in the lift and hung it like a hat by her office door when they'd entered) and said, “Very fond of the human respiratory system. We found that out the hard way from some of the earliest missions.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“The infected people get sleepier and sleepier and one day, they just don't wake up. Then a day later, they explode and juvenile Funny Faces come out of their corpses.”

 

“Gross.”

 

“Yeah.” Her expression darkened and her fingers stilled on the keyboard. “Lost my first CO that way. Been in charge ever since. Anyway, good job on the retreat. Bad job in the hive. It's not worth whacking 12 maybe-Hornets to bring down the rest of the swarm on us.”

 

“Hitting Hornets never summoned the others before.”

 

“But whacking the Royal Jelly would have. Plus, that red stuff is likely how it came down in the Cry, which means you'd have to get a temperature hotter than entrance velocity to do it any damage. And the field is not the place to find out whether or not you burn hotter than a Lunar Cry. You work that out in the practice arena.”

 

“I don't have access to the practice arena,” said Seifer, knowing what was coming next—

 

“You would if you were full-time.” And not being disappointed.

 

“No, Eos.”

 

“Tch. Anyway, don't question me in the middle of an active situation like that ever again. I've been at this way longer than you have and I know a hell of a lot more. I don't mind if you show initiative, X, but don't you ever think of breaking a direct command. Got it?”

 

“Got it,” Seifer said grudgingly.

 

“Speaking of initiative, how's your head? If you say 'Fine', you're eating my fist.”

 

“It... Tingles,” Seifer admitted. “Nothing some sleep won't fix.”

 

“Conk out early tonight then.” She started typing at her terminal “Now watch the middle screen.”

 

He looked. The screen flickered black for a moment and then brought up an image of some nice inner courtyard made of blue, green, and gold tiles. It looked weirdly familiar though he couldn't explain why.

 

“Happy birthday, Eos,” said a male voice that made Seifer nearly yell in shock. Instead all his breath left in a hard exhale as a tall man with shock white hair and a purple scar twisting down one cheek stepped into frame. He was dressed casually in the usual light linen trousers and tunic-like shirt most Estharians wore under their long robes, though the top was a light blue color that made his skin look very tan. In one hand he held the exact same sort of sword Eos used in the field and Seifer plotted the man's height to be over six and a half feet tall.

 

“Zero al-Masi,” said Eos from her side of the room. Her voice had just the faintest trace of wistfulness in it. “Best fire user I've ever seen. Watch what he does.”

 

Like Seifer could look at anything else. Hungrily he stared at the most solid lead he had of his biological father as the man stepped back, saluted the camera with his sword, and then rested the point of it on the ground. The crystal fuller shimmered, but no flames came out of either the blade or Zero's hand. Instead, seven fireballs appeared around Zero like a halo, swelling into being like balloons being popped in reverse. And they were  _huge,_ all at least the size of basketballs and all as spherical as a sun. 

 

“Bullshit!” Seifer exploded. Zero hadn't moved, hadn't breathed, and was not touching any of the fireballs. Seifer always had some physical connection to the fire he used.

 

“Keep watching,” said Eos, sounding very pleased.

 

On the screen, Zero smiled and lifted his sword. With a slow movement Seifer recognized was gratuitously dramatic, he tapped several of the fireballs and Seifer's eyes grew huge as he saw the temperature of each ball change. In less than a minute, Zero stood in an arch of seven fireballs of red, yellow, blue, and white, and appeared neither tired nor hot. Then with a flick of his still non-glowing sword, he sent them spinning in a ring in front of him that then slowly tilted to whirl around him like a white-hot hoop. Then without warning, they exploded into sheets of flame that draped  _on Zero's body_ like silk. Still unhurt, Zero raised his arms, gave a little wave at the camera, and then dismissed the flame with a hearty laugh as the excited squealing of what sounded like an entire party full of children nearly broke the camera speakers. 

 

“Aspire to that,” said Eos as the image abruptly froze. The sound of her voice shocked Seifer into breathing again: he had stopped as soon as Zero had appeared on the screen. Eos spoke again and this time her voice was full of pride as she said, “That aura he's wearing isn't merely pretty, X. If you can float that off your body and expand it out, we'd have a walking fire bubble against the spores that takes way less energy to generate and maintain. And being able to make multiple fireballs and different temperatures is going to be useful too. There's no doubt in my mind Uncle Zero would have been able to blast the Royal Jelly without trouble.”

 

Seifer had to swallow a bit to get moisture back into his mouth. It seemed like an omen after months of nothing to be suddenly smacked in the face with evidence of his past, evidence that he now realized he hadn't thought was truly real until now. For the first time, Zero al-Masi was more than a name and a flashback.

 

“You got any other videos of this guy?” He managed to ask.

 

“With fire? Yeah, some,” said Eos. When he looked at her, she was watching the screen with a sad smile on her face. “He _loved_ showing off for the little kids. And while this doesn't have much of a combat application, he could also take the heat out of his fire and just make these pretty little cool flames that felt like smoke in your hand. It was the best.”

 

“This... This is the uncle that died fighting Adel, right? The one... Who came back with the sword in his chest?”

 

Eos's expression tightened and she hit a computer key, dismissing the video before Seifer could say a word. “Yeah. That's him. He was brave and smart, but he had a temper too. A lot like you, actually. Learn from his mistakes, X. Look before you leap. And actually trust in your friends instead of thinking you have to do it all alone.”

 

“Eos, I know you said his sword was bad luck—”

 

“No.” She thumbed her own as Seifer fought to hide his flare of anger. “It's not just bad luck, X. We lost a lot of heirlooms and family history in Adel's Reign, the Succession Wars, and most of all the Lunar Cry. That sword is never leaving the family manse. Hell, you're not even supposed to have that spear except Gramma never checks the polearms.”

 

“I'd be a lot more effective with a sword.”

 

“I'm sure. But you'll make do with a spear.”

 

Seifer wanted to shout, but there was no good way to push his point. So he decided to change the subject and get some other information. “Tell me about your uncle.”

 

“No.” Eos said sharply. Then she shook her head with a sigh. “Sorry. It's just... I saw him dead. Adel's honor guard just dropped him off on our front step without so much as a shroud. And Gramma went to prison to shield the rest of the family from danger.”

 

“Your _grandmother?”_

 

“Technically she's my great-grandmother, and she was there for five years.”

 

“She sounds tough.”

 

“She's the definition of tough. But kinda loopy nowadays. She keeps calling me 'Dhuka', which was my auntie's name.”

 

_FUCK._ Seifer swallowed hard. What were the goddamned odds? First Eos showed him a video of his father, then she told him that his mother was her aunt? That meant they were cousins, right? Right?

 

Eos rubbed her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Seifer. “Why are you asking all these questions about my family, X?”

 

“No reason,” said Seifer, trying to keep as calm as possible.

 

“You ain't trying to get _friendly_ , are you?”

 

“No way.”

 

“Good.” She smirked a little at him. “Because I like ladies. And I like 'em a _lot._ So don't go barking up this tree, okay?”

 

Seifer couldn't help but snort. “Okay.”

 

“I'm going to send you every video I have on Uncle Zero using fire,” she said, turning once more to her terminal. As she typed, she added, “Go rest up. You're done for the day.”

 

Normally Seifer would have objected since he got paid by the gig, but there was something much more important at hand now. He left Eos's office at a brisk walk and was back in his room at the boardinghouse in less than thirty minutes.

 

There were four videos waiting on his borrowed terminal when Seifer arrived, and he sat down immediately to watch them. Each was labeled as a string of numbers marking a date and time, and Seifer selected the earliest one.

 

This video showed the same blue-tiled courtyard again, but this time there were trailing vines with big white flowers growing down the walls and two figures on the screen. One was Zero. Another was a fair-haired baby who looked like he had just learned how to sit upright. Seifer nearly choked.

 

“Watch Daddy,” singsonged Zero, holding up his hands. An egg-sized flame of flickering cherry red popped up above his right palm, and Zero rolled the flame like it had weight and mass from palm to palm. The baby stared, mouth open guilelessly wide, and panted audibly with astonishment as Zero brought the flame closer and closer. Seifer held his breath as his father put the fireball almost directly on little baby Seifer's nose, which made the little boy—himself!—go still and breathless with excitement.

 

“ZERO!” screeched someone from offscreen.

 

“Oh shit,” Zero blurted, turning as pale as his hair. And the video cut out.

 

Was Eos fucking with him?  _Was she fucking with him?!_ Every video she sent of Zero's skills was like that, some sort of painfully candid home video where Zero, Dhuka, and Seifer as a baby all appeared on the screen like ghosts of an erased timeline. Seifer watched each video at least ten times, a deep and terrible hunger roaring to life in his chest with every video frame. His father had been so tall and incredibly strong. His mother had been beautiful, funny, and incredibly protective of her little baby boy. And Seifer himself as a baby... Well, he'd been a baby! A formless ball of human dough with the utter softness of something that been protected all his life and never wanting for anything. A far, far cry from what he was now. 

 

“You were so cute,” Ultimecia murmured. Seifer was so gone in his grief over the past he did have any energy to spare to worry about what her presence meant. “And your parents seemed lovely. What would they think of you now?”

 

“Don't you fucking touch them,” Seifer whispered, his vision blurring for no good reason.

 

Ultimecia made a tiny noise that could have been anything but she said nothing as Seifer reached out and touched the tiny images of his parents' faces. It was so much easier to break down when nobody was around except for the person who had seen him at his absolute worst. Granted, she'd been responsible for that state but without her, he wouldn't have known what his parents looked like.

 

“ _What would they think of me? After what I learned to do growing up and what I did to their homeland?”_

 

“I'm sorry,” he whispered as the tears started to fall. “I'm so sorry.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: My writing teacher from ages ago (the one who said 'don't write from a little kid's POV' and 'don't write a completely crazy person') also said not to write cliché and cloying scenes. I don't know if either of the video scenes count. Or anything else in this chapter, really. It was fun to write some Ultimecia again, though.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	37. Chapter 37

“Hey X. You doing anything for the 22nd?”

 

Seifer looked at Eos strangely. Nothing had changed about their interactions since she'd sent him the videos of Zero and told him she was a lesbian, so he was not sure why she was asking something that sounded like a personal query.

 

“No,” he said, now curious.

 

“Wanna come to my house?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because we're all watching the President's speech and you don't have a screen with a signal.”

 

Now Seifer looked at Eos really strangely. “Why do you care if I watch the President's speech?”

 

“I don't, actually.” She folded her arms and looked slightly uncomfortable. At the moment the two of them were waiting their turn for the practice arena, which Seifer was technically not supposed to be using. However, Eos had decided on her own that he needed extra practice with his spear and fudged the necessary documents.

 

“But I do care that you're a sad and lonely puss and the 22nd is gonna be a shitty time for you.”

 

“What!”

 

Eos all but rolled her eyes at him. “You think I haven't seen the way you get when people talk about their families? You're an orphan, aren't you?”

 

Seifer glared. “So what? I stopped wanting a family when I was eight years old.”

 

“Oh yeah? What'd you see in Time Compression, then?” Eos looked at him shrewdly. “Because here's the thing, the one thing that _everybody_ had in common during that time was seeing people they had close connections to one way or another. Kids that hadn't been born yet, for example. Or long dead relatives. Who did you see, X?”

 

“That's none of your—”

 

“The 22nd makes it one year since the Lunar Cry and Time Compression,” said Eos, making Seifer fall silent. “Everyone's going to be going home to their families, X.”

 

“I've been alone my whole life,” Seifer said in a low voice. He had to concentrate to keep it from shooting up into a shout. “This isn't different from any other New Year or birthday or graduation—”

 

“Okay, okay.” Eos held up her hands and shook her head. “I'm just saying, I've got a big family with lots of love to go around, and I'm kind of fond of you in a stupid-little-brother way. Plus, free food. _Real_ food, not ration-bricks.”

 

Now that gave Seifer pause. Good food—fresh vegetables, meat of any kind, and of course sweets—was very hard to come by in New Esthar. It simply cost too much to import since over 60% of Esthar's agricultural area was gone. Fortunately the facilities to make synthetic food were intact, but the quantity needed to sustain Esthar resulted in a distinct lack of flavor and even less texture. Seifer was sort of used to ration bricks by now and used his extra pay to get fruit now and then, but real food... A real meal... Hmm. 

 

“Ah-hah, you're thinking about it.”

 

“Food is food.”

 

“So says the man who hasn't my great-auntie's cooking.” Eos chuckled and then cocked her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “So, you been watching those videos?”

 

Bitch. Did she know she was twisting a knife something awful? Seifer glared at her to cover a pang of melancholy that was still very strong almost three weeks later. By now he had memorized nearly every damn second of those videos and was just starting to accept that there was always going to be more he'd never know.

 

“ _I could take her up on her offer. That'd mean going ho—meeting more blood relatives. They wouldn't know me, but I could learn about them...”_

 

It was so tempting that he was almost certain it was a terrible idea, but that didn't change the allure.

 

“Yeah, I've been watching 'em...”

 

“Good. I hope you've got a few new tricks to show me,” said Eos as the 'occupied' sign above the practice arena dinged to 'open' and the doors slid open to let several sweating soldiers out.

 

“I've been working on some stuff.”

 

“Let's see them, then.”

 

So he did. With the focus of the materia core giving him a degree of control he'd only thought possible in madness, Seifer threw arcs and walls of rushing fire at Eos, fireballs that hit and spread like sticky bombs, and the coup de grace, a string of small firelike bullets that he conjured up by sweeping his hand along an imaginary barrel—fanning the nonexistent trigger, as it were. Eos shielded herself with ice lore and dodging reflexes that would have made Fujin nod appreciatively, and after about thirty minutes Eos called for a halt.

 

“Very nice,” she said, making Seifer smirk. “I notice you didn't try any of Uncle Zero's tricks.”

 

“I tried 'em but they're not ready yet. Or I'm not old enough yet or something. What was he, 30 or 40 or...?”

 

“In those videos? Probably 40. He definitely wasn't our age when he was my uncle.” Eos smirked a little. “He and my auntie were _scandalous._ They started dating each other when they were both with other people.”

 

“What?”

 

“Oh yeah. Uncle Zero was married and everything. But I guess his wife was an awful person and I know Auntie Dhuka was seeing somebody who wasn't treating her right either, so...” Eos shrugged, but she was still grinning. All at once Seifer remembered the writing on the back of his steel necklace, his parents' betrothal jewelry, and felt like laughing himself. _'I love you without sense or reason'_ indeed.

 

“His first wife still around?” Seifer asked as casually as possible. “Maybe she's got more stuff on him I can watch.”

 

“I can ask, but I doubt it,” said Eos with a shrug. “If she is still alive, she's probably remarried and might get all weird if you show up... Asking about her dead ex-husband.”

 

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

 

“Yeah, yeah... I'll look up the name for you. So, the 22nd.”

 

“Thanks, but I think I'll be a sad puss,” said Seifer. As great as his desire to know about his family was, he felt like he could only get so close at any given time. A complex sense of self-preservation made him both feel like he needed to have a certain distance lest Eos's family get sucked up in his possible arrest and also a part of him was afraid that if he met blood relatives, he'd have a breakdown of some kind. It was hard enough sometimes being around Eos and seeing how strongly her features mirrored his, especially around the eyes and mouth when she got pissed about something. Having never been around someone who was so undeniably family kept picking at the wound that Seifer ignored in his soul, mostly because the last time he'd really paid attention to it, Ultimecia had sunk her claws into that raw nerve and played puppetmaster directly into his brain. No thank you.

 

“You don't have to be,” said Eos, unexpectedly somber. The skin over his spine started to tighten apprehensively.

 

“I'll see you around later, Eos.”

 

“Okay. Oh, one more thing. Everything's gonna be shut down for the 22nd, so stock up on food and stuff, okay? And if you forget, you can always call and come to my house.”

 

“Stop fussing! I'll be fine.”

 

“Okay, okay,” she said, throwing up her hands. “That's the last time I'll ever worry about your grumpy ass.”

 

Except it wasn't. Eos pestered him three more times about coming to visit her family until finally Seifer made a crude comment about her not-so-subtly testing the limits of her lesbianity, with a side of 'robbing the cradle' to be extra obnoxious. When she slapped him upside the head and called him a prick, he knew his plan had worked. But the flush of victory was so unsatisfying as to be boring, and as the 22nd crept closer Seifer started wondering if he maybe should have said yes to Eos's invite. _Everybody_ was talking about their plans for that day or what had happened to them on it, sometimes  crying and staring off into space, not having made peace with what had happened. Seifer normally didn't care about other peoples' haunted looks and experiences, but the sheer number of them started to get oppressive. The ghosts of trauma past seemed to push in around him as tales of horror and sheer confusion swirled around Seifer like a river, seemingly thicker in the climate-controlled and heavily filtered air of subterranean New Esthar. In maudlin moments Seifer wondered if this was what the air in a tomb felt like.

 

By the time the 22 nd actually came around, Seifer was thoroughly sick of hearing about Time Compression. He'd escaped the worst of it by being in Ultimecia's castle, the eye of the storm so to speak, and just like he occasionally felt like total shit for being alive and well when so many dumb schmucks (okay, “innocent people”) were dead, hearing about tragedies he'd directly caused and escaped the consequences of made Seifer feel like setting something on fire. How could he feel bad about doing things and  _ not  _ doing things at the same time? Time Compression was  _ not  _ his fault but would it have been achievable without his help? Was there anything that could be done to make up for Time Compression at all? If the answer to that was no, then what did that mean about the Lunar Cry?

 

Was he, in fact, doing  _ anything _ worthwhile with his life?

 

On the 22 nd , Seifer's phone pinged to let him know he had messages. Seifer expected a single mail on the group thread he had with Fujin, Raijin, and Quistis, but apparently everyone wanted to have a word with him privately.

 

/\/\/\

 

To: Zero

From: Nami

 

Everyone is talking about what happened to them today, which makes me realize that we were all rather lucky in what we did not experience. When people asked me what I saw or felt I told them I was blackout drunk and slept through most of it, which something no one can disprove. I do not tell them about the nightmares I have from that time because they are not of Time Compression. I cannot sleep with the lights off anymore. I have to have something on so when I wake, I can see that I am not in a coffin deep in the ground. That is not the only nightmare I have of back then but it is the one that strikes the most often. I think I may have it off and on for the rest of my life.

 

Sometimes I hate that I cannot cast Cura on my brain and expect a change, but that is only weakness speaking. The mind and heart and soul are too complex for easy fixes and their complexity is what makes life worth living. I would rather have my nightmares and bad memories that proved I existed rather than forget everything and live with a false idea of myself.

 

I know you have nightmares too. I just wanted to let you know that everybody does, and maybe the way I deal with mine can help you. Yours are different and they are scary in ways I can't imagine but you aren't alone, ever. If you need anything, we will be here.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

From: Nagi

 

People keep talking about seeing their dead relatives during Time Compression, which makes me wonder if I would have seen my mom or my dad if I'd been out there. Get some answers, you know? Some of the stories are really funny, this one guy met his wife but when she was a little girl and she kicked him in the nuts when he told her they'd be married in the future. She swears she remembers doing it too, except she remembers doing it as a little girl. Time stuff is weird, isn't it? I'm glad we didn't get the worst of it, though we definitely had our own set of problems.

 

Today's gotta be rough for you. I don't see any way it wouldn't be, especially considering where you are. Don't ever think any of this mess is your fault. She lied to you, she did freaky magic stuff to you, she didn't even tell you her whole plan. You're as much a victim as anyone else, if not more. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise, okay? And don't believe it either. Love you, bro. Let's talk more often, okay?

 

/\

 

To: Zero

From: Scarlet

 

How are you feeling? I wish I was there to hear your answer in person or at least see the things you don't want to say. I hope you're not hearing too much garbage about what the Mad Knight did. He wasn't you, not to me or anyone else who matters. And what he did is not your fault.

 

Not too long ago I realized that it's been a year since our first kiss in the elevator, fooling around on your vehicle exam, and me deciding to trust you like I'd never trusted anyone before. It's a dangerous thing to do in our line of work, but I've never regretted the decision. You are one of the strongest people I know where it counts, and more than just survive, you conquer. I'm proud to know you.

 

/\/\/\

 

Something thick and painful seemed to swell in Seifer's throat and he had to put the phone down so he could make his vision refocus through a suspicious blurring. It had only been a few weeks since seeing his favorite people but now they had never felt so far away. It wasn't right being apart today, not when the ghosts of Time Compression were so thick on the ground and Ultimecia still whispered in his ear whenever he walked among the ruins of Esthar. It took way too long to control his breathing and swallow the hard-edged lump in his throat, but eventually Seifer managed. Now the knowledge he could search out Eos and her/his family grew to something like compulsion, but Seifer refused to submit any more to weakness than he already had. Braving melacholic crowds to sit on the edges of a family he'd lost ages ago seemed entirely too masochistic.

 

“ _Fuck it... I'm going to go to sleep. There's nothing else I need to do today anyway. And one more wasted day isn't going to ruin the world any more.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

“Once there was a way to get back homeward,

Once there was a way to get home...”

 

The haunting melody wove its way down the white stone halls of the orphanage, easing over the slow tempo of the ocean outside. Seifer as an adult walked through the empty halls, aware in that way dream-selves were that there were only a few people in this structure. Himself, himself as a child, and a woman. He wasn't sure of the woman yet, which was why he was following the voice.

 

“ _Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry_

_And I will sing a lullaby...”_

 

The feminine voice was becoming louder. He was getting close. Seifer turned a corner and saw the dim, warm glow of candlelight warming the hallway. He took a deep breath—in real life, he would have swallowed hard—and stepped forward, bracing himself for the worst. Seifer saw himself at once, a little boy no older than six, dozing and glowing from a high fever. And at his bedside was Matron, singing softly with purple eyes.

 

Purple?

 

“ _Golden slumbers fill your eyes,_

_Smiles await you when you rise,_

_Sleep, pretty darling, don't you cry,_

_I will sing a lullaby.”_

 

“Who are you?” Seifer asked the purple-eyed woman, who lifted her head and looked at him. She startled like she knew him.

 

“...Sifr?” She whispered.

 

Seifer gasped. His knees nearly buckled at the sound of his birth name.

 

“Mommy...” Six-year-old Seifer whispered, turning in his sleep. Edea/Matron/Dhuka turned at once, touching his forehead. Adult Seifer gasped for breath, clutching onto the doorway of the room.

 

“...Where am I?” Seifer asked, feeling himself shake. “ _When_ am I? Who are you? Am I...”

 

“You're you,” said the woman with long black hair, and when she turned to look at him, her eyes went from purple to hot, molten gold. Seifer gritted his teeth as she smiled in a way that turned his Matron's beloved face into one from his nightmares, and the other witch inside Edea asked mockingly, “Aren't you?”

 

Seifer looked at his six-year-old self, unconscious and suffering. Something in his head seemed to snap. Running into the room, he grabbed the child out of bed and tore out of the room, heading blindly for anything that seemed like an exit. Of course he'd be a shit to his own self, because little Seifer started struggling at once.

 

“Put me down! Put me _down!_ I'm gonna kill you!”

 

“ _Did I know that phrase when I was a kid?”_ Seifer wondered, eyeing the child in his arms and wondering if he was actually holding some weird-ass allegory. It wasn't like he was back in the past for real again, right? Was he actually kidnapping his child self?

 

“Shaddup,” he told the child, knowing little Seifer wouldn't screw up his face and cry. “I'm trying to help you.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

“I'm, uh... I'm your big brother,” said Seifer, looking around the orphanage for the exit. Halls upon empty halls seemed to stretch out and bend around him, convincing him on the one hand that he was definitely dreaming and on the other, freaking him the hell out.

 

“I don't have a big brother,” said little Seifer, his eyes narrowing. “I'm an orphan. I don't have _nobody.”_

 

“That's not true,” said Seifer, only half-listening. A shadow out of the corner of his eye made Seifer turn and he nearly swore in relief when he saw stairs. He started for them at once, absently noting the strange yellow tint of the light that came all the way from the bottom.

 

“You got lots of people,” said Seifer, remembering he had a hostage. Kid. Something. “You've got everybody in the orphanage, you're gonna get some cool friends later, plus the best girlfriend in the world—”

 

“Don't want a girlfriend.”

 

“You say that now,” said Seifer as he ran down the steps, but as soon as his feet touched the stone, the texture under his heels changed from hard rock to wood. And as the yellow light grew stronger, Seifer suddenly remembered where he had seen it before. Automatically he tensed as he ran into a golden gallery full of strange paintings and he spun around at once, looking for the sorceress who was hunting him.

 

“Seifer?” A woman's voice called out. “Seifer, where are you?”

 

Seifer clapped his hand over the little kid's mouth before he could call back. At the moment, Seifer could not tell what woman was looking for him and not knowing was deeply terrifying.

 

“ _Where the fuck is the exit from here?”_ thought Seifer, looking around. The door on his left was not one he remembered going through in the castle, so he impulsively ran for that one. At once it opened and Seifer skidded to a stop, his heart stopping in his chest.

 

“There you are,” said the Mad Knight, resting an unbroken Hyperion on his shoulder. Seifer had seen footage of himself from back then a couple of times—bullshit human interest pieces, newscasts calling for his death—but he was still stunned cold at the sight of the gaunt man with the burning eyes, his physical shape as tattered as the once-pristine coat he wore. The Mad Knight's eyes were the color of molten gold.

 

“Who's that?” asked little Seifer, sounding bewildered and scared.

 

“Nobody,” said Seifer harshly, turning to half-hide the little boy from the Mad Knight's gaze.

 

“Now that's not very nice,” said the Mad Knight, slinging Hyperion off his shoulder. “I've been looking all over for you... Little brothers.”

 

“How many brothers do I have?” little Seifer demanded, looking up at his adult self.

 

“Just me,” said Seifer, clutching him tightly. “Don't look at that other guy.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because he'll hurt everything you care about.”

 

“No,” said the Mad Knight, his eyes flashing. “I'm the one who protects the only thing that matters _.”_

 

And because it was a nightmare, the door on the other side of the gallery opened and Ultimecia stepped through, smiling. Little Seifer squawked a bit as Seifer hugged him tight, paralyzed with indecision.

 

“You're hurting me!” The kid shouted, starting to thrash in his arms.

 

“I'm trying to keep you safe, you little—”

 

“It _hurts!”_

 

Ultimecia made a gesture and abruptly Seifer's arms were empty. He moaned in grief and horror when he saw his little child self appear in Ultimecia's arms, and she chuckled as she put him on her hip and carried him just like Matron used to.

 

“Who are you?” Little Seifer asked, apparently entranced by her beauty and otherworldly aura.

 

“I'm the Sorceress,” said Ultimecia. Somehow the Mad Knight had appeared at her side and he ruffled little Seifer's hair in an overly familiar way, a little smirk on his dry lips. “And we are going to become very good friends, little Seifer. It's your fate.”

 

“PUT HIM DOWN!” Seifer yelled, his voice cracking with the force of the cry. He was unarmed and he somehow knew his fire lore was inaccessible, but he ran at Ultimecia and the Mad Knight anyway, his eyes fixed on the little boy who was rapidly forgetting the danger he was in. Children were so stupid. So weak. They needed to be protected.

 

“How are you feeling, little man?” The Mad Knight asked young Seifer.

 

“Pretty good,” said the six-year-old. He looked over his shoulder at adult Seifer, his lips pursing. “Better than that guy, anyway.”

 

Ultimecia laughed, and Seifer woke up with the noise of that sound echoing in his ears. He gasped for breath and for a long time wasn't sure where he was. The translucent canopies over this bed seemed terrifyingly oppressive and heavy, and it took far more effort than Seifer wanted to sit up and drag them back. As soon as he saw the room beyond, his breathing slowly calmed as he beheld his clothes, his new sword, his new life. One with no witches in it at all.

 

“See you next year,” he heard softly in his ear. Seifer clutched his head in his hands, nausea boiling in his chest and stomach. In that moment, 'next year' felt like the rest of his life, and after a few minutes, Seifer broke down and cried.

 

/\/\/\

 

From: Zero

To: Scarlet

Cc: Nami, Nagi

 

Thanks for all your messages, guys. Love you all. I'm doing fine.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

a/n: Dangit Seifer.

 

After a lot of deliberation, I decided to keep this as a regular chapter instead of a sidestory. It's short and kind of odd, but I think it's important to see how Seifer feels one year later and this sets some things up for later.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	38. Chapter 38

To: Scarlet

From: Zero

 

I've been spending my free time figuring out what I can do with my fire lore. I thought I was pretty good until I saw a master at work and now I'm studying like I got my life on the line (which is true, I guess). I've been going up top more often than not as the XDI tries out more of their repelling mines and they go deeper and deeper into enemy territory. No injuries for me yet, but a couple of squadmates cut it close a couple of times. The further we get into infested Esthar, the bigger and nastier the Beasts become and the hungrier they seem to be too. But at least hunger makes most of them stupid enough to charge head-on and get split tip to tail, just like they taught us kids to do.

 

Anyway, saw some weird plants up top today, like big curled-up ferns made out of clear glass. Apparently these are new to the eggheads and we stopped in deep territory for a solid 30 minutes so they could take photos and make notes. It got the soldiers real wiggy but nothing happened. Usually when something's pretty around here, it means it's going to kill you with extreme prejudice but sometimes a fern is just a fern. We also saw some patterns on the ground that reminds me of the lichen in the woods around Balamb, the kind we had to eat when we got real desperate on survival missions. Probably tastes a lot nastier though. Brought some of the ferns back, praying for no nasty surprises.

 

Counting the days until I see you and talk to you in person again. Among other things.

 

/\

 

To: Zero

From: Scarlet

 

I had almost forgotten the taste of that lichen until you brought it up. Ugh.

 

I'm looking forward to seeing you too. Life with the Shumi is educational, but I find myself yearning for our special relaxation after long days of training. I don't know if it's the time away from the world, the nature of what I'm studying, or maybe even what I'm eating, but I feel less and less like myself as time goes by. I know I'm a different person than I was a year ago and it's not just because of what I've been doing with blue magic. I can't help but wonder what I'll be like a year from now, and what we might be too. I love you. See you soon.

 

/\/\/\

 

“Let us see how it is today,” said Makine as Quistis unwrapped the bandages around her right arm. Today she could stand looking at it for about five seconds before the sight of her warped, semireptilian skin made her stomach flop. It would have been easier to bear if the skin had turned ruby red, but unnervingly the half-formed scales on covering her right forearm and elbow were exactly the color of flaking calluses while still feeling like something a dragon would have. In the dim light cast by Makine's fishtanks, the unnatural scales glittered.

 

“Better,” said Makine, nodding at the damage. “The scales are smaller today.”

 

“They've become softer too. But more tender, like they're being rubbed raw.”

 

“Perhaps you would like to forgo the bandage.”

 

“No.” Quistis rewrapped her arm, tensing her jaw a little as a dull ache started throbbing in her skin. “They get harder the longer they're exposed to air and I want them to go away.”

 

“Have you had any other nightmares since the scales appeared?”

 

Quistis shook her head. Norg's warning about the malleability of her genetics had finally manifested, although Quistis had always assumed she'd lose control when she was awake. Three days ago she had woken up from a dream where she'd rampaged like a dragon from a fairytale and found irregular patches all over her body covered in scales. Scales! At the time it had been hard to say what had been more shocking to Quistis, the blow to her confidence or to her vanity. For god's sake, she was supposed to see Seifer and the rest of humanity in a week. And while Quistis had never been conceited about her beauty, the idea of being ugly was horrifying enough that she reluctantly realized just how much she'd taken her smooth skin and symmetrical features for granted, and how much a part of her self-image they were.

 

Deeper than that, however, was the fear that had led her to developing her magic in the first place. What if despite her best intentions and all her training, she _still_ turned into a monster? Objectively Quistis knew that she was likely to die before age 30 because of her chosen field, but dying in battle was one thing. Dying as a beast with no conscious thought or discrimination, especially after a lifetime of discipline and training, seemed blasphemous.  Fortunately most of the smaller patches cleared up in a few days of no blue magic practice, but a week later her right arm was still abnormal, there were splotches over her cheeks and ribs, and there was a line of scales that stung like a sunburn down Quistis's spine, starting from the base of her neck and ending right on her tailbone proper. About the only way she was truly comfortable was when she was sitting still either reading the Blue Magic Tome or listening to one of Makine's lectures, but the knowledge that the human self she had worked so hard to establish for so many years was slowly melting away itched at Quistis's brain day and night.

 

“It is healing well,” said Makine, who had seen blue magic side effects many times before. But though he spoke with authority, Quistis was not reassured. It was possible he could be wrong this time. Absently she rubbed her arm and then winced as burning warmth started going through the human parts of her skin.

 

“I estimate another two weeks until they are completely gone, though the timeline will extend if you transform or use your skills in any degree,” he said, lacing his hands together. “I know this will be difficult, but trust me when I say that they will disappear. Keep a peaceful mind as much as possible too. Stress will keep your body in a heightened state of readiness for further transformation and that will add more time to your recovery.”

 

“Elder Makine, I only have a few more days here,” said Quistis, trying not to sound desperate. “I don't feel like I've learned anything near enough. If I don't practice—”

 

“ _If I don't make these things go away by the time I leave—”_

 

“You have made a tremendous amount of progress,” said Makine soothingly. “And if you feel there is more to learn, you are more than capable of learning it. But you have reached the limit of what Norg and I are able to teach you.”

 

“I find that hard to believe.”

 

“No. You are merely unwilling to accept it.”

 

Quistis hugged her elbows, trying not to feel resentful and failing. But at the same time, she could not think of a single thing she needed either Shumi for other than supervision. She of course had the framework to develop her skills from Norg, and she and Makine had spent long hours extrapolating about Terran abilities, blue mage history, and even debating the future of blue magic itself. Academically she knew she had done a lot, but there was an aspect of her being that was convinced there was no such thing as enough. At least she still had the Tome. It would be better than nothing, she hoped.

 

“What will you do in the wide world, Quistis Trepe?”

 

“I'm not sure. At first I thought I would go back to Balamb Garden and teach what I've learned, but I still don't feel like I know enough. I suppose I could go back into the field, but with my blue magic still being volatile I don't feel comfortable taking combat missions.” She laughed a little uncomfortably. “Ideally I'd like to research blue magic and the Terrans more, but—Oh!”

 

“Something has occurred to you?”

 

“It's thin,” Quistis admitted even as excitement trilled in her veins. How could she have been so oblivious? “But I think I could go to Esthar and continue learning what I can from Lunar Beasts and the Lunar Cry. There's a SeeD outpost there so I'll have a place to stay and study, and I could apply some of the taming and summoning techniques the Tome describes too. That's the one thing we couldn't work on in the Village.”

 

“Indeed.” But Makine seemed ambivalent toward her plan and unwillingly Quistis felt her enthusiasm start to wilt. She refused to be dissuaded however. Researching Lunar Beasts in the field was going to be very valuable, not just to her own development but possibly also to the world at large. Surely Esthar's Xenobiological Defense Initiative would be interested in what she could find out if it helped them retake the surface.

 

“ _Then I could work with Seifer for as long as his alias holds...”_

 

She would have to be very, very cautious since she would be with SeeD in an official capacity again, but it wasn't like she was able or willing to do anything different. Maybe it was the time apart or the clandestine, illegal nature of their relationship, but Quistis found herself missing Seifer more with each passing day. She had not had any more nightmares since the dragon scales had appeared, but vivid dreams had come thick and fast, both erotic and heart-stealingly emotional. When she woke up Quistis was dismayed that her subconscious was pining like a heroine in a romance novel, but in dreams it seemed perfectly reasonable to desire love, affection, and comfort with every fiber of her being. And as abrasive as Seifer could be sometimes, the immediacy of his presence was always reassuringly grounding.

 

“ _As long as he's not turned off by scales. Oh, I wish they would go away! What if I transform in the middle of something and really hurt him? Or disgust him to the point where he can't stand to be around me?”_

 

“Quistis Trepe, I would like to give you something before you leave.”

 

“Huh? Oh, thank you but that's not necessary though, everything you've taught me is gift enough.”

 

Makine's expression narrowed slightly, approximating a human expression of shiftiness that she hadn't thought the elder Shumi capable of. “No, I must insist that you take this present with you. And one other thing... You cannot show it to Norg.”

 

Now that was a surprise. “Why not?”

 

“Because he will take it from you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it is of Terra and he believes such things should be kept in the Village. However, you are a singular sort of blue sage—no, a singular sort of human—and I believe you alone will make the best possible choices with this present.”

 

Anxiety felt an awful lot like curiosity and flattered pride at the moment. “What exactly _is_ this present. Elder?”

 

Elder Makine reached into one of the little side compartments of his hover pod and pulled out something that looked like a shard of reddish-orange crystal. Handing it to Quistis between two fingertips, he said, “Be careful. There is only one of its like in the entire world.”

 

Quistis took the object with appropriate reverence even as she examined it with a SeeD's eye. The crystal was six-sided, about twelve inches long and three inches thick, and suspiciously light for its size. It also seemed peculiarly warm, a fact Quistis initially attributed to the touch of Makine's fingers before she found subtle depressions along one of the crystal's faces. Running her fingers over the invisible dips, she realized that they were regular and very slick in a way that indicated polishing. When Quistis turned the crystal over in her hand, she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw a light flash from inside it.

 

“ _What on earth?”_ Quistis wondered as she lifted the crystal to her eyes. She squinted for focus and then stared in wide-eyed shock as she saw hairlike wires going through the center of the crystal's core. 

 

“Perhaps someone in Esthar could make some sense of it,” said Makine very blandly. Quistis could only nod.

 

After that, it was time to pack up everything and get ready to leave. While Quistis had not arrived in Shumi Village with a lot of possessions, over her approximate six months of study she had made some friends among the junior Shumi and they all pressed gifts of precious stones (both gem and not) upon her that eventually necessitated another bag. She drew them pictures in return and couldn't shake the image of Garden students enjoying their rare moments of pure childhood, most notably when Dr. Kadowaki had used to draw paper dolls for the youngest and newest of wards to give them non-combat-related presents. Somewhere back in Balamb Garden storage, Quistis had a little folder with her very own Kadowaki doll, which was made out of a thicker file folder paper in contrast to all the printer paper Quistis had later stolen to make clothes. The unexpectedly tender memories of that time made Quistis realize that she was a good bit more homesick than she'd been willing to admit. She didn't want to go back to SeeD just yet, but seeing Dr. Kadowaki and Xu and the trusted people she had grown up with... Yes, she wanted to see them very much. But how often would she get that chance if she took off completely on her own? Ex-SeeDs didn't get any particular favors over civilians as far as the Garden was concerned, especially when it came to visits.

 

It was a mixed blessing she would still see Norg, or so he said. “The Gardens are still mine,” he said to her, giving her a pat on the head that nearly knocked her out by way of 'goodbye'. “I will see you when I check on my investments. It has been too long since I have been out among the humans and I do not want them to become overrun with weeds while I look away. Do not neglect your training simply because it will no longer be regular, however. I will test you every time I see you.”

 

The occasional human traders who came to Shumi Village to peddle medicines and rare foods took Quistis from the Village to one of Trabia's southernmost ports, and from there Quistis sailed on a merchant ship inbound for Esthar. In a berth secured between crates of eggs and vegetables, Quistis alternated between excitement, the anxious mysteries of her future, and the fact that the damn scales were still not going away. Despite Makine's advice she worried over the scales obsessively, counting the ones she could see to make sure more didn't appear and checking them repeatedly to make sure they didn't get bigger or harder. Frustrated when they didn't appear to change, Quistis then tried to scrub them off despite skyrocketing levels of pain and when that didn't work, gave serious thought to just cutting them off. But she restrained herself. Yes, she might get rid of the scales that way... _Or_ they could reform as scars and become permanent. Plus, what if the scales were merely the external signs of greater changes within? Even if she got rid of them, the damage might already be done...

 

“ _Makine said I would get better,”_ Quistis kept telling herself. _“He's seen this before. He said I'd get better. If I'm still scaly after two more weeks, then I'll really let myself worry. Until then... They're just scales. They're basically calluses. Yes...”_

 

Once Quistis started thinking of the scales as calluses, the edge of her irritation/panic dulled just enough that she could forget about them most of the day. Thankfully most of her clothing favored long sleeves and full coverage, so when Quistis disembarked in Esthar there was nothing to single her out from any one of the hundreds coming and going from this particular area. This was a commercial port in northern Esthar and remained aboveground thanks to being so very far away from Tears' Point, but even here there were undeniable signs that the Lunar Cry had changed everything. There were lots of soldiers around, but very new and ill-trained if their swagger was any indication, and the sky to the south had an unsettlingly red cast. Hasty constructions that were a few steps above 'shantytown' served as rough dwellings in front of the now opaque hexagonal panels that kept Lunar Beasts inside the surface of Esthar. And while there were plenty of people going about their lives and even children running around, Quistis couldn't help but wonder how many of these people had been displaced from homes in the south or were on their way out of the country in hopes of a better life elsewhere. Nearly everybody seemed to be carrying some sort of piece of luggage no matter where Quistis turned.

 

From the port town, it was a daylong ride in a civilian transport vehicle known informally as a Land-Train, though in truth it was actually a very big, long, and surprisingly fast hoverbus that zoomed over the white-blue salt flats carrying a hundred people or more. Quistis supposed it was a measure of just how essential SeeD had become to Esthar's defense when she paid for her ticket and received instructions to go to the SeeD compartment, which was on the LT's second floor and took up probably a good fourth of it as opposed to the tight rows and cabins that made up the rest of the vehicle. Then again, a lot of the space had to do with weapon storage, maintenance, and inventory replenishing. After setting her things onto one of the bunk beds in the compartment, Quistis logged onto the terminal to check her SeeD inbox. It would be the first time in a year she had looked at those sorts of messages. And unsurprisingly, there were a lot of them.

 

_Dear Miss Trepe, I hope this finds you well..._

_Dear (the once and future!) Instructor Trepe..._

_Hello Miss Trepe, we hope you're having a great time on sabbatical and..._

_Miss Trepe, my name is (so-and-so) and in case that you choose to be free of the Garden, I wanted to confess..._

 

And so on, and so on. Quistis marked them all as 'read', shuffled them into a folder marked 'Trepies', and looked over the ones that remained.

 

/\/\/\

 

_Kung hei fat choi from the family. Everybody kept asking me where you were up until I told them you got a boyfriend, and then it was all “WHO IS HE” and “IS HE GOOD ENOUGH FOR QU-AH”. I swear, my mother is already demanding that we take measurements for a wedding dress though I don't know what her problem is, it isn't like she doesn't have grandkids AND great-grandkids already. But just so I can say I asked, I need your three measurements and the back of your neck to the ankle. You're welcome, especially considering that without you here Ma is doubling down on her campaign to get me married off. Again, I don't know what her problem is. It isn't like marriage was the key to happiness for_ her.

 

_Thanks for the tip about the Grand Library. I'd prefer something that gets the murderblades a bit wetter, but those monsters in the catacombs are definitely more than tough enough to test our seniors' skills. Not renting out our staffers, though; they're too integral to the way we run things and I don't want to sell off our secrets just to make money. At least we're starting to break even with the Lunar Beast gig since there's enough new SeeDs to replace the casualties in Esthar, and the people who've been there are the ones smart enough to live and pass on their knowledge. And speaking of knowledge, how'd you like to be a guest instructor about blue magic? It's what you've been studying this whole time, right? I can't give you your old room back, but I_ can _give you the one down the hall that used to be mine since I've moved into Cid's suite. And you always did like my balcony, didn't you? Just think about it._

 

_Love you lots, Q. Be good and be careful. I'll see you soon._

 

/\

 

 _Hi Quisty!!! I know you're not going to see this until way late but I just wanted to let you know that Irvine and I got FERRETS and they are awesome okay, look at them (mine is the one with the hat). You need to come visit all four of us when you're done with Shumi Village before you get sucked back into the Garden and we don't see your face for, like, years. I swear Squall has gray in his hair now (tee hee, I almost typed 'gay'! Wouldn't Rinoa be surprised?) because he just works soooooooo hard but at least we know he's going to look good when he grows up. I mean, Sir Laguna still has it going on so Squall should too! Anyway, come see us! I need a shopping buddy who's actually going to talk me_ out _of getting stuff rather than cackling every time I rack up a new debt. You can also tag-team with me to make Rinoa_ _buy all the stuff, okay? She won't have a chance, haha._

 

/\

 

_Hey there! Hope your travels are fruitful, easy, and absent of un-fun excitement. Not much different going on around here though Selphie and I got ferrets and they are way more fun than anything that looks like a furry snake's got a right to be. I sent you a video of them playing in a box full of packing peanuts, so if you feel sad or whatever, just watch them. It's great. Though I wish Selphie would stop dressing them up so much. I don't think they like it as much as she does._

 

 _Work's been going good with my speaking stuff, though I'm starting to get tired of just talking about how things could be better and actually wanting to make stuff happen. I've been doing some research about transitional jobs for ex-cons and I think that'd work great for juvie offenders, because if our entire lives have proved anything, it's that you can train little kids for jobs that people will pay lots of money for. So why not make those jobs_ not _murdering people, you know?_ _Not that I mind having the skills, but not everyone's cut out for the job and even if you are, you still might want to be a cake baker or something. You ever thought about what you want to be if you weren't in SeeD? If you could pick anything not having to do with combat, what would you choose?_

 

/\

 

_Happy New Year! Belated but you know what I mean. So how's everything in Shumi Village? We've been having some wicked waves in Balamb so I did a lot of surfing over the break, though I went facefirst into the reefs and nearly had to get a tattoo on the other side of my head. It's kind of a good thing my folks and I are still kinda on the outs, because just imagining the scolding Ma'd give me is making my ears ring. See you soon, real soon as a matter of fact. That's right, I'm coming to Esthar! Instructoring (Instructing?) is fine and all but I miss punching stuff in the face so I talked to Squall and Xu and they're cycling me in so some of the other teams don't get burned out. I guess there's been more breaches around New Esthar and everyone's getting real tired. Where do you want to meet up? I bet Sis'd like to see us too._

 

_p.s. It's ok if you don't write back for like a month or whatever. I know you're busy doing all sorts of cool stuff. But let's still catch up, okay?_

 

/\

 

_Dear Quistis, how are you? I hope you are well._

 

_Xu has changed my schedule. I am now the Commander only in the morning, and in the afternoon I am taking SeeD classes like I would have done if things hadn't changed last year. Zell's doing the same thing except he started when we came back, so he's a year ahead of me. He keeps offering me his notes when I have trouble except I don't understand anything he writes. Can I look at yours if they're in storage? You have neat handwriting and you explain things past getting a grade. I always understood what you were talking about in class and out of it._

 

/\

 

_Dear Quistis, how are you? If you're getting this after March 1 st, come see me and Squall in Esthar! He's taking me there for my birthday and Laguna is putting us up at the Presidential Palace for three whole weeks! I think this is the first time in Squall's entire life that he's taken a vacation though because he seems kind of anxious about leaving the Garden and I'm worried he doesn't know how to relax. Got any tips for making him slow down? Zell suggested a book, Selphie said extreme sports, and you can _ imagine _what Irvine told me to do, so I'm looking for non-insane suggestions to keep a chronic workaholic's mind off business._

 

_I really hope we can meet up in Esthar. I've got something I want to ask you about but I don't want to talk about it over email. It's weird personal stuff and I think you'd understand it best. Love you much! See you soon! Rinoa XOXO_

 

/\/\/\

 

Oh goodness. Quistis couldn't help but smile at the warmth flowing from her friends' messages even as she was slightly dismayed at how complicated it was going to be to arrange seeing them around seeing Seifer. Everything had gone fine in Deling City but to make things less complicated in the long run, it would be best to keep what she and Seifer had away from everybody else. And honestly, that suited Quistis just fine. The longer she stayed in love with Seifer, the more protective she got of their all-too-rare moments together. Technically, though, she had a week until she was supposed to go back to Balamb Garden.

 

“ _At least nobody knows exactly when I'm coming in except for Seifer. That'll make scheduling a little easier.”_

 

So she sent a few emails and was surprised when answers came within minutes: Zell was unfortunately going to be busy for the next four days because of Lunar Beast duty rotation, and the fact that he didn't suggest a meal off-shift told Quistis volumes about how exhausting the detail was. Rinoa wrote for both her and Squall and said that their schedule was currently booked with a combination of official Garden things and Laguna-ideas (Quistis laughed at the idea of Squall skydiving indoors), so they too would be busy for at least the next five days. Well enough, then. That certainly gave her more time. Quistis also sent an email to Officer Alton Brown, the head of the Estharian SeeD outpost according to the Network's login screen, and informed him that she would be spending her last week of sabbatical on civilian grounds to maximize her free time. He didn't email her back, but she didn't expect him to nor want him to: he was undoubtedly busy, and besides that was probably still irritatingly chauvinistic. The best that could be said about Alton Brown was that he meant most of his silliness in the kindest way possible, which took _some_ annoyance out... Some.  
  
When the LT pulled into Esthar Station, Quistis took the short line for SeeDs and mercenaries and took the opportunity to gaze around the station while going through weapon and ID check. At first when she saw the line check agent go round-eyed at her ID, Quistis wondered if something was wrong; had the Garden changed something while she'd been away? But the answer turned out to be much more pedestrian as the agent gave her the ID card back with a growing look of awe, and as Quistis left she heard the young woman slapping the coworker who was checking weapons and squealing, “You will _never_ guess who just came through!”

 

“ _It's a good thing I was planning to get a disguise anyway_ ,” thought Quistis in mixed amusement and dismay. In a prior communication Quistis and Seifer had established that the Estharian mode of dress would be best for disguise purposes, and a quick look around the station found Quistis a store that was selling Estharian robes for all ages, ranging from the common white to pastels, jewel tones, and marvellously embellished black, with even more fabulous tabards in every color. She had originally intended to buy only one robe and one tabard to fit in, but then reasoned that hiding her true purchase among other clothes would be best and anyway, Estharian fabric was both silky and sturdy in a way she had not felt before. Eventually she bought two robes, two tabards, a tunic and pants ensemble, and three midriff-baring shirts that had particularly eye-catching patterns.

 

Once equipped, Quistis went to the station bathroom and changed, first putting her SeeD duffel inside an unremarkable civilian bag she had brought along just for this purpose. Then she put on her favorite of the long robes, which was a color that to everyone else in the world would be known as red-black: to Balamb Garden students, however, the hue was undeniably a color called 'Rexaur Blood' and despite its graceless name, the color shimmered in dual tones that made every step distractingly pretty. Everywhere else in the world the fabric would have caused a stir, but not in Esthar. If anything, Quistis wearing an outfit with only one color was seen as rather dowdy. Outside, a very friendly lady helped Quistis get the hood and face scarf on like a local.

 

“You know, dear,” said the lady as she expertly tucked and pinned the folds over Quistis's pinned-up hair and scaled cheeks. “You don't have to wear a mask if you don't want to. Plenty of people have scars from the miasma.”

 

Good lord, it wasn't enough that the miasma poisoned people and killed them, but it scarred the ones who got away too? Quistis pretended not to be surprised and instead faked a blush.

 

“I was hoping to get them removed,” said Quistis, which wasn't entirely a lie. “And in the meantime, I don't want to be stared at.”

 

“Completely understandable,” said the lady, and to Quistis's surprise she started folding the scarf in a rather intricate and pretty way. At first Quistis demurred, not wanting anything that drew more attention to herself, but the lady would not be swayed and that was how Quistis ended up with a swirling fabric flower over her right temple, pinned cunningly and securely to the hood that covered her hair. The end result looked like a young fashion-hungry Estharian girl who maybe didn't get out that often rather than a tourist who was trying to fit in and after thanking the lady, Quistis went in search of her and Seifer's agreed-upon meeting place. Apparently in New Esthar there was a subterranean park that was apparently quite the tourist attraction and because it was a very big underground waterfall, it relied more on human than electronic surveillance. Perfect for a couple who had been trained in evasive maneuvers since childhood to get away from prying eyes.

 

After a long ride in a high-capacity lift, Quistis finally took a step into the underground haven of New Esthar. Though she understood that the majority of Esthar's population had fled underground to escape the Lunar Cry, the sheer scale and style of the construction took her breath away. Quistis had always assumed that New Esthar would look like Shumi Village, that is to say 'normal except in a huge stone bubble underground'. The 'sky' of New Esthar looked the same as the Village in that it was made up of hexagonal panels that emitted sunlight, but nowhere in the world did buildings go right up to the sky itself. Aboveground, Esthar had favored futuristic construction of white concrete and plastic but below, every vertical surface seemed to be covered in the living green of real plants—it probably had to do with air filtration more than aesthetics. As a result, the air was far more humid than the surface ever would have been and add that to the general crush of people getting onto and off of the lifts and Quistis felt somewhat claustrophobic before she was even a hundred feet into the subterranean country. Yet it was still exciting. Quistis had not realized until now how monolithic the rest of the world was, in that one could expect to see basically the same things in Timber, Dollet, Deling City, and even Balamb. But in New Esthar, everything looked different: the way each building was sectioned off from one long wall instead of having true multiple structures, lights coming through optic blocks instead of bulbs, and the translucent plastic roads, forged extra tough to support hundreds of people. Hovers zoomed in tubes that went down into the ground, reminding Quistis that the vast majority of New Esthar still lay below, and instead of magazines and billboards there were electronic screens and interactive holograms of eternally friendly, patient guides to help lost tourists get where they needed. Quistis took advantage of one such guide to get to the hover for Oasis Park, which was crowded with foreign tourists and a few Estharian families with charmingly young children. One of them was probably not more than a year and a half old and kept brushing his hand through Quistis's skirt, giggling every time the colors shifted.

 

“I'm so sorry,” said his mother, immediately scooping him up as soon as she noticed what he was doing.

 

“It's alright,” said Quistis, amused. As she settled her robe back in place, the child's older sister pointed at Quistis's hand.

 

“What's wrong with your hand?” She asked curiously.

 

“There's nothing wrong with her hand,” said the child's father sharply.

 

Quistis smiled a bit uncomfortably and pulled her hand back into her sleeve. She had forgotten about the shiny scutes across her knuckles until now. “Miasma damage,” she said, thankful that the woman in the train station had given her an excuse. The adults sighed in sad acknowledgment and the little girl looked probably abashed even though Quistis got the impression she didn't actually understand her offense. In any case, Quistis kept her hands inside her sleeve cuffs for the rest of the trip and tried to talk herself out of panicking. So what if she had a few scales? Scales were just strange-looking, not dangerous. These were even going to go away as long as she kept calm. And she felt as human as she ever did... Probably more, actually, since beasts did not fret over their appearances.

 

“ _I wish I knew why I couldn't think them away like I do when I transform. Maybe I transform all the way and return to human, they'd leave... But on the other hand, what if I get stuck? Damn it! All I have is Makine's word that they'll go away eventually, but there has to be a way to get rid of them faster. But what could I do that I haven't done already? And what if I'm stuck with them forever...?”_

 

By the time Quistis got to Oasis Park, she was giving serious thought to cutting the scales off again. Little children famously spoke the truth and she couldn't imagine that Seifer in his typical bluntness and need for truth would white-lie when he saw the loathsome patches. If he recoiled or jumped, it was going to be because she was honestly ugly. And it was hard not to be upset about that even as Quistis told herself that Seifer was not going to get hung up on looks (even though their relationship was incredibly physical) and he'd probably be offended that she'd even think that about him (especially considering he had seen her first transformation  _ever)._ Still, a flutter of anxiety threatened to boil into nausea in Quistis's stomach as she left the lift and stood aside from the long line leading into Oasis Park. Due to the delicate cave life around the park, the waiting area was dark compared to the rest of New Esthar and lit with green-toned lamps that made things seem slightly eerie. With a bit of grumble Quistis realized her deep red robe now looked flat black. How was Seifer going to find her?

 

“ _I suppose it's up to me. Smelling things should be fine, right? That's not really an exercise of blue magic...”_

 

So she inhaled. In the underground confines of New Esthar, the normal scents of humanity became intense and several times Quistis sneezed as the salt-sour smell of unwashed body odor and cloying artificial scent seemed to stab right through her forehead. Clamping her lips together seemed to filter out the most offensive smells, but even so it took Quistis longer than she would have liked to finally detect the unique smell of fire-warmed amber and leather that was Seifer Almasy. In the darkness she tracked the smell to a man who was standing at the entrance of the park and looking around, but at first she wasn't sure she had the right person. This man had Seifer's frame, but was covered up just as much as she was in a long multilayered coat of shifting blacks and strongly contrasting patterns. As Quistis drew closer he noticed her almost immediately and perked up, but as he moved toward her someone else came into her path.

 

“Excuse me,” said the person, a man in his mid-twenties in a somber, Galbadian-styled suit. His eyes shone with a peculiar fascination as he looked at Quistis and she blinked in surprise as the jump-pop of blue mage recognition lit up her senses. Other than that, he looked fairly ordinary—blue eyes, brown hair with actual sunstreaks, and a slightly irregular face made charming with a roguishness like Irvine might have in 10 years. Underneath the mundane smells of coffee and pomade, he smelled primarily of moss and something that put Quistis in mind of wet dogs. Still standing directly in her way, the man said, “You have _the_ most beautiful eyes I've ever seen.”

 

“Thank you,” Quistis said automatically. She had been fully prepared to step around the man, but faced with the first adult blue mage she had seen in years and considering what she had just gone through, the surprise was enough to pop her into routine. Mentally giving herself a shake, she said, “I'm sorry. I'm in a hurry.”

 

“Where are you going? I'll walk with you.”

 

Surprise turned immediately and firmly into annoyance. “I'm fine to walk alone. And I'm meeting someone.”

 

The man's brows raised. “Someone interesting?”

 

“That's none of your business,” said Quistis, stepping around the man. He got into her way again and Quistis glared at him. A year ago she would have huffed and rolled her eyes, but after months of fully embracing a certain bestial territorality, she felt herself wanting to slap the man for his impertinence. Her ire must have communicated itself in her gaze because the man instantly backed up, but his stare remained just as focused as though they were mere inches apart. The ice-brightness of his blue eyes reminded Quistis of certain breeds of dogs and wolves.

 

“Easy there,” he said, his voice friendly to the casual observer. A rather specific undercurrent of wariness made Quistis look more closely at the man and as her eyes focused in the dim light, she saw the outlines of weaponry under his coat come into view. So he was not only a blue mage, but a fighter of some sort. Quistis settled her weight onto the balls of her feet in case she needed to move quickly and rested her hand on the hilt of her jian, hidden under her robe but still very accessible.

 

“I just thought I knew every blue mage in Esthar,” said the man, holding up his hands in a universally peaceful gesture. “My mistake.”

 

“How could you possibly know every blue mage in Esthar?”

 

“I'm the praetor for the local Temple.”

 

“The prater?”

 

He gave her an amused look, one that quickly turned incredulous the longer she frowned at him. Still looking at her strangely, he reached under the starched collar of his button-up shirt and pulled out a silver pendant on a surprisingly long chain. At first glance it looked like a flat silver disk, but as he held it up, Quistis saw that fine brushing on the metal made light glimmer across it in a growing arc. It was a rather clever depiction of the waxing moon.

 

“You've never seen this before, have you?” He asked, stunned.

 

“No.”

 

“Damn.” He narrowed his eyes at her and had he hackles, Quistis thought she would have seen them rise. “You... You're an orphan?”

 

“That's none of your business.”

 

“And a blue mage.”

 

“...”

 

“Wait a minute, are you—”

 

He staggered suddenly as Seifer all but shoulder-checked him to approach Quistis. Apparently he'd gotten tired of waiting. Still tense from the encounter Quistis was half-sure Seifer would grab her arm and try dragging her off, but he instead held his hand out to her and turned to face the man with a glare of his own. If Quistis's earlier look had been full of irritation, Seifer's promised violence and the man blinked in surprise.

 

“Excuse me,” said Quistis, not sure if she was relieved or irritated by Seifer's intervention; of course it would happen just when things were getting interesting, one way or another. Taking Seifer's hand, she gave him a squeeze and said to the man, “Don't follow us, please. Or we'll take it amiss.”

 

The man smiled somewhat thinly at her, though his eyes flicked from her to Seifer and back again and got narrower each time. Quistis was not sure what to make of the slightly disbelieving and unpleasant smile that began pulling at one corner of his mouth.

 

“He's not a good match for you,” said the man softly, and Quistis stiffened as she heard two distinct tones to his voice—the low baritone pitch of his normal speech accompanied by a low frictative drone that seemed to shoot straight into her ears. It was exactly like the overtone voice described in Scholar's notes and not unlike the noise she made when she was trying to concentrate. Great Hyne, the man wasn't simply another blue _mage..._

 

“Better than you, since she doesn't like you at all,” said Seifer in the definition of a menacing tone. In the layered Estharian ensemble, he looked even taller and more broad-shouldered than he already was and when he took a half-step forward to crowd the man, Quistis noticed that the people around Seifer automatically backed up. She wondered if anybody else had heard the overtone speech.

 

The man smiled his humorless smile and backed up, his eyes flicking to Quistis. Then rather politely, he inclined his head.

 

“I should go,” he said in a normal voice, and then tapped his wrist like he was wearing a watch. Except it wasn't his wrist... Quistis stiffened as she realized he was tapping the place where on her hand, her scales were showing. He smiled once he saw her recognize the gesture. “I have to help someone with something. My name's Asparion if you're interested and I have a place on Level 9 if you want to—”

 

Seifer snarled something in Estharian that made nearby people gasp or clap their hands over their wide-eyed children's ears, but Asparion just tipped an imaginary hat and left. Both Seifer and Quistis watched until the flicker of his neat, dark suit disappeared into the crowd before Seifer turned and looked at her. His own Estharian clothing kept him concealed except for the eyes too, and a border of black on his head covering and the flat-paneled black mask over his nose and mouth seemed to highlight the intense blue-green of his eyes.

 

“What was that about?” He asked accusingly.

 

“Nothing I'd want to discuss in public,” she said, giving his hand another squeeze. He looked even more irritated at that, but all of a sudden Quistis was very glad for his belligerent protectiveness and without particularly knowing why, she went up to him and pecked him on the cheek. The effect was diminished through two cloth masks, but at once the suspicious cast of Seifer's gaze softened and she got the impression he was smiling somewhat grudgingly.

 

“Let's get out of public then,” he said, and twining his fingers with hers, started leading her away from the crowd. Quistis followed but cast her gaze around at the same time, her enjoyment marred by a fast-growing curiosity. Clearly there was more to do with blue magic in Esthar than she had originally anticipated.

 

“ _I thought I'd learned a fair deal, but now I'm wondering how much I don't know. All this time I was worried about the transformation and the skills, but maybe I should have been thinking about the human aspect instead...”_

 

And something else was troubling her too. The man—Asparion—had he been about to guess who she was? How many orphaned blue mages in the world were there? Quistis chewed her lip and wondered if it wasn't too late to get away somehow. But no, her identification already was on file as coming into the country and it wasn't like he knew she was meeting Seifer. So there wasn't much he could do to her.

 

“ _Asparion, hmm. I'll have to look him up, but not the way he wants. As long as he's not hostile, I could learn something more... And if he is hostile, then it's a good thing that I've been doing so much battle practice. Plus, Seifer could help me dispose of the body. It might be nice to work together again.”_

 

Quistis looked up at Seifer and as if he felt her gaze, he glanced back at her. “What?”

 

“I love you,” she said, seeing no point in hiding it.

 

She felt him start a little in surprise, but a second later he chuckled and pulled her close, throwing his arm around her shoulders. Leaning down, he murmured at about the level of her scarf-covered ear.

 

“I love you too. And once we get off the street, I'm gonna show you how much.”

 

Quistis chuckled. She had seen the line coming. But she chose to be pleased by it anyway and hugged Seifer's arm, feeling lighter and happier than she had in several months. She hoped their destination was not particularly far away.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: It just occurred to me that in theory, one could start the story from this chapter and still be okay comprehension-wise... SCREW IT I DON'T CARE I WANTED TO WRITE CRACK AND FLUFF

 

Start of a new arc, in any case. Hoo-rah!

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut warning

Quistis should have looked shapeless in a flowing Estharian robe, but the lustrous shimmer and drape of her Rexaur-blood robe instead highlighted all the interesting curves of her body and it was hard for Seifer to take his eyes off her. On a more-than-physical level, it was hard for Seifer to look away at all when the object of his affection was finally with him after three months of separation. Even though all he could see of her was her bright blue eyes and her hands, it still felt like enough as they walked away from the tourist area and towards the boardinghouse where he had a room to himself. Of course, just looking would not be enough for long. While three months had gone by quickly, it was still too damn long between good times as far as Seifer was concerned and it took a certain amount of self control to stop himself from running down the street. The boardinghouse was just far enough away that by the time they arrived, they would be the un-fun kind of sweaty. But walking had its perks too.

 

“When did you start speaking Estharian?”

 

“I didn't.”

 

“Then what did you shout at Asparion?”

 

“Hell if I know. My CO screams it in the field when things are about to go pear-shaped, so I guess it's pretty bad.” Seifer grinned as Quistis started laughing. Something about the sound of her laugh was just impossible not to smile to.

 

They swapped stories of battle and training as the fancy glass-plastic architecture gave way to plain opaque white structures decorated with plants. In the tourist areas there were flowers and broad-leafed plants to scent and clean the air, but in the residential districts everyone grew plants they could eat. The landlady of Seifer's boardinghouse favored anything in the onion family, which would have been obnoxious if she harvested more than once a week. At the moment her walls looked stripey with the garlic plants all gone, the white and purple chives both in flower, and the shallots cut down to the waterline of their hydroponic setup. This time of the afternoon, nobody was in sight to see Seifer and Quistis go into the boardinghouse and up to Seifer's room, which was on the third floor of the building. Here Seifer had to restrain his impatience again, because even though the goal was in sight Quistis was distracted by the boardinghouse itself. Arranged like something out of a storybook, the boardinghouse was three stories high and around a courtyard with a brilliant design in layers of gleaming resin-like material. In the middle of the courtyard was a large round fountain with an extravagance of water in otherwise carefully controlled New Esthar, and trailing from the rails around every floor were hanging fruit and vegetable plants.

 

“Are all Estharian buildings like this?” Quistis asked, equally awed and clinically curious. “This height and the courtyard seem like a waste of space...”

 

“It's a special building,” said Seifer, guiding Quistis toward the stairs leading up. “The landlady, Dhariya, was one of the first 100,000 who was on board with New Esthar when President Loire suggested it, so she got a lot of say in what she wanted her property to look like.” Seifer grinned as he remembered something and pointed out one of two depressed areas that were on opposite sides of the main courtyard. “That over there is the bathing room. It's got a tub about half the size of a swimming pool and it's made just to soak in.”

 

“You're joking.”

 

“Oh no.” Now Seifer was grinning broadly. “And since most everybody here works normal hours, that means there's long stretches of time where we could have it all to ourselves... Especially since we might need to wash off in the near future.”

 

Quistis laughed, but she sounded slightly uncomfortable. Seifer suddenly wondered if he was coming on too strong after months apart and just as quickly dismissed the concern. What possible reason could she have for being hesitant? It wasn't like she'd ever held back before. Or could have met somebody else in Shumi Village. She would have told him if another human had been there to study, if only because she'd thought she was the only one who'd had the idea. So something else was up...

 

Seifer's room was on the third floor and like every other room in New Esthar, had no windows. But being a special building, there was a screen hardwired into the far wall that could be programmed to show a variety of pleasant outdoor scenes or whatever else the viewer desired. At the moment the screen was dark and the only light came from a single dome on the ceiling that was currently set to a warm orange-gold. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Seifer immediately pulled off the cloth panel covering his nose and mouth and reached for the scarf on the bottom half of Quistis's face. She backed up so fast she hit the door.

 

“Wait,” she said, sounding somewhat panicked. “I have to tell you something.”

 

“I don't care if you're sick. Or if you're on your period. That's what towels are for.”

 

“That's not it. Neither of those. I'm...” Quistis looked at him strangely. “Really? The blood wouldn't bother you?”

 

“Wouldn't be the first time I've done it, so...” He shrugged when Quistis's eyes got rounder. “What? Don't underestimate the power of horniness and limited opportunity.”

 

Quistis started laughing, softly at first and then louder as she ran out of breath. Seifer smiled back but wasn't sure what could be so bad that she'd fret like this. Something must have happened in the village. Come to think of it, hadn't some of her emails referenced 'unstable genetics' or some other kind of problems?

 

“Alright then,” said Quistis, taking hold of the scarf around her face. “Just... Don't scream.”

 

“When the hell have I ever screamed at anything?” Seifer asked as Quistis started unpinning the scarf on her head. As the fabric slipped down her nose and to her shoulders, Seifer blinked as light gleamed on hard, clear bits of plastic stuck to Quistis's face. She looked more than embarrassed and Seifer managed to bite back a rather rudely worded query about what had happened.

 

“What's on your face?” He asked instead, figuring that was neutral enough.

 

“Nothing,” said Quistis bitterly. “Because they're not _on_ my face. They're _part_ of my face.”

 

“What?”

 

“I had some setbacks with my training,” she said, hugging herself again and looking away. As she turned, light rolled up the plastic things (except they weren't plastic, they were just shiny and hard like it) and made Seifer realize that she had more of them than he'd realized. “And then right before I left, _this_ happened. They're all over me.”

 

“What are they?”

 

“Scales.”

 

Scales? Seifer looked at the bits more closely and realized yep, they were. Not round-edged ones like fish had, but rather more pebbly ones like snakes and lizards did. Huh.

 

“Neat.”

 

“What!”

 

“Neat,” Seifer repeated, starting to get an understanding of why Quistis had been so weird earlier. “So they all look like that or you got different shapes or—”

 

“How can you be so calm about this?!”

 

“Because you're kind of freaking out enough for both of us and they don't really bother me, so...” Seifer shrugged.

 

“Seifer—” Quistis abruptly shook her head. She seemed to be fighting with herself as the starts of a few more sentences popped from her mouth and cut off just as abruptly. Meanwhile Seifer took off his head covering and the two outermost layers of his Estharian ensemble, which Eos had pressed on him not too long ago. They were not, thank god, from Zero. Apparently Eos had gone through an androgynous phase shortly before moving down to New Esthar and had lots of mens' clothes she no longer wanted. Seifer got over his irritation about charity for the clothes: after all, it would help him blend in with the populace and his two pairs of pants and three shirts were getting thin at the seams. As Seifer undressed, he heard a breathless little chuckle.

 

“You really don't mind them?” Quistis asked shyly.

 

Seifer shook his head.

 

“They don't bother you at all?” She pressed. “I know I'm not—”

 

“You're you,” he told her. “And that's what I like. Scales aren't going to bother me any more than fur did. Though...”

 

“What?” She tensed like she was expecting a blow.

 

“You don't have a tail this time, do you?”

 

Quistis laughed in a short, sharp bark. “No, I don't.”

 

“Good.” He folded his arms. “I can deal with a lot of things, but a tail would weird me out..”

 

“What about wings?” Quistis asked, her voice a mix of playful and serious.

 

“Definitely a no,” he said, shuddering. “The Bitch Witch had wings, so—”

 

“Ah,” said Quistis with perfect understanding. “Well, I'll keep that in mind, then.”

 

“Good.” Seifer eyed her cheeks. “So is that it? Just some scales on the face?”

 

Quistis hesitated. Then she shook her head and said, “I suppose I should just show you. You'll see them soon enough one way or another.”

 

Slowly Quistis started undoing the little frogs at the back of the robe to take it off, her gaze on the floor. Underneath the dark red-black fabric, she had on her usual boots and a sleek, longsleeved tunic that was set with blue and green designs that Seifer automatically thought of as 'Shumi'. Quistis took a breath before taking the tunic and her boots off too, and Seifer held his own as he saw the extent of her half-transformation.

 

Honestly, it wasn't that bad. The irregular scales gleamed and glittered in the lamplight and trailed up her body from her left ankle up around her leg, scattering over her stomach and ribs like stars and then dusting her shoulders before resolving into a more solid arrangement over her right forearm and hand. Most were diamond-shaped but there were a few longer ones like the scutes on a snake's belly and some slightly raised ones like dragons had. Quistis hugged herself, selfconscious again, though Seifer couldn't help but smile at the sight of all her nearly naked again. It wasn't just the skin showing, but the fact that she let him see her true, soft self.

 

“There used to be more of them,” Quistis said when he just looked in silent admiration. “They seem to shrink a little every day.”

 

“That's good, right?”

 

“Right.” She looked at him sidelong and then blushed. “You really don't mind, do you?”

 

“Nah. It's kind of artistic.” He leaned forward and brushed his fingertips over the biggest scales on her side, feeling something as slick as glass but as warm as sunlight before Quistis leaned away. “What's wrong now?”

 

“It feels like you're poking sunburns when you touch them.”

 

Seifer chose not to remind Quistis that he had done that frequently as a child, especially to her; fair skin and bright sun off the ocean had predictable results. Absently he noticed that she still had faint tan lines from her gauntlets and battle outfit in the form of slightly darker patches around her shoulders with a pale stripe on top.

 

“I'll try not to touch them too much, then,” he said, walking around to look at Quistis's back. Here, the scales were raised over her spine almost in a series of ridges and Seifer resisted the urge to run his finger down them to see if they were sharp. But he could not stop himself from looking to see if Quistis had a tail (she definitely did not) or anything else unusual. There was nothing he could detect, and rather carefully he put his hands on her shoulders. She jumped a bit, but didn't pull away. That seemed good.

 

“So... Are these permanent?” To Seifer, that would explain why Quistis had been worrying as much as she had. If they weren't going to stick around, why waste time thinking about them?

 

“No,” said Quistis. “Supposedly they'll go away in a week, but Elder Makine said if I worried about them, they'd stick around longer. And since I knew you'd want to, umm...”

 

“Fuck you through the mattress?”

 

“I was going to say 'make up for lost time', but yes.” Quistis brushed her cheek against his hand in a way that was more flirtatious than feline and that seemed promising. “Anyway, the idea that you wouldn't want to touch me was very upsetting. I've really missed you.”

 

Seifer wasn't sure if her anxiety was cute or insulting. Turning her around, he looked into her eyes and said, “I will never not want to touch you. Honestly, the only turn-off I can think of is if you don't want to touch me.”

 

“Well, that's impossible,” said Quistis, a smile curling the corners of her mouth. She drew her fingertips lightly across his collarbone and down his chest, all but purring, “You know what you look like.”

 

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

 

Quistis glanced up at him with just a flick of her beautiful blue eyes, but just that look was enough to tell Seifer she was feeling much, much better. A little shiver went down Seifer's spine, setting a lazy heat building in his veins. Ripping Quistis's clothes off and throwing her around was fun, but the longer they stayed with each other, the more Seifer realized the appeal of savoring the moment. So he stayed still and watched Quistis run her fingertips over the slim, flat buttons that kept the last layer of tunic on, enjoying the gentle press of her body warmth, and the way the light from the lamp gleamed on her hair and reflected catlike in the depths of her eyes. He treasured the starlike glitter of whip scars mixing with the refraction inside the scales, knowing nobody else in the world would be trusted enough to see them, and for a moment Seifer was so pleased at Quistis's trust in him that he didn't realize when she started to flick his buttons open with clever twists of her fingertips. An apparently unconscious hum of happiness purred past her lips.

 

“I think it'd be easier to describe if there wasn't all this fabric in the way,” she murmured, and Seifer smiled slowly as she undid button after button. The gleam in her eyes became more than reflected light as the tunic came open by degrees, creating a lengthening triangle of bare skin that pointed suggestively downwards. And still Seifer remained still, thoroughly reveling in the soft stutter of Quistis's breath when she finally reached the end of the buttons just below his navel and was able to pull the tunic off. The workaday fabric was transformed into something sensuous as it slid down his arms and pooled on the floor, setting the heat in his blood to a simmer.

 

“Well?” Seifer asked, more as a joke than out of any desire for more ego stroking.

 

“Shh,” said Quistis, lightly scratching her nails down his stomach and to the slim belt on his trousers. She said nothing about the effect her light, familiar touches had on him below the belt but Seifer saw her little smile broaden enough to show a slim line of teeth, and the little flick of her tongue across her lower lip made Seifer sigh in anticipation. “Be patient. There's still some fabric here, after all.”

 

“You sure you won't be rendered speechless later?”

 

“Well, I hope so,” said Quistis, now smiling in earnest. “Otherwise, what will I have been dreaming of every night for past three months?”

 

What that implied made Seifer grin. “So what you're saying is, I'd better not disappoint you.”

 

“I may cry if you do.”

 

“Oh, well, we can't have that.” Seifer reached down and touched Quistis's hand with his own. As though she anticipated some direction, she gravitated towards the belt buckle but Seifer drew his fingertips over her hand and up her arm instead, using the same teasing, light touch she had been doing on him. Mindful of the scales and their potential to end things with pain, he traced a weaving path through them that moved upwards along her upper arm and shoulder, grazing across her collarbone and neck before he gently wove his fingers in her hair. As heavy and slick as satin, the memory of it brushing over his chest and his thighs made Seifer ache with wanting, and the shiver that unsettled Quistis's look of calm seduction was enough to crack his reserve. Aside from the tips of their fingers brushing each other, they were not touching. Seifer amended that by leaning down, but he didn't have to go far; he caught a glimpse of Quistis's eyelids fluttering closed and her rose petal lips parting to greet his.

 

She managed to taste the way sunlight felt even this far underground and her happy sigh might have been a breeze off the unfettered sea. Seifer didn't normally wax poetic about his erotic encounters but this was love, not just screwing around, and the hunger that normally rose in him to _take her now, take her hard_ was tempered with something new and different: Quistis was not going to leave. They were going to stay together. So there was no need to rush even as time apart and hormones demanded otherwise. There was still a trace of hesitancy in Quistis's touch as she undid his belt and pulled him closer, but Seifer didn't mind; they were past taking these little signs to heart. And besides, there were the scales to consider. When he set his free hand on the small of her back, his thumb landed on something hard and ridged instead of soft flesh and Quistis flinched. But after that stutter she sighed and returned his kiss with a growing passion of her own, so Seifer moved his hand and didn't let it bother him. The longer they kissed, the more Quistis relaxed and leaned into his touch, and Seifer became aware of more scales pressing against his stomach like sun-warmed coins. Seifer idly wondered if he was going to have impressions of them in his skin afterward as he and Quistis moved to the bed, pulling him down on top of her, but it wasn't a consuming sort of worry. Scales or not, Quistis was still soft and pliant underneath him, molding her body against his and grinding against him with soft pants that were getting louder with growing desire. Seifer rocked against her too, the press of her leg rolling down his cock making him groan in satisfaction as she spread her legs slightly and—

 

“Stop.”

 

“What?”

 

Quistis wriggled, and Seifer realized that she hadn't exactly been grinding against him as he pulled back and saw the slightly pinched look on her face. As she pulled herself out from underneath him, snags along his pant leg made Seifer look down and see that several of the scales had caught on his remaining clothing. Meanwhile Quistis twisted around to look over at her back and irritation tightened her otherwise flushed, pretty face.

 

“Let's try a different position,” she said. “Being on my back like that is going to chafe my spine.”

 

Seifer looked at the scales all over Quistis's body and mentally cross-indexed their location with positions they could have fun in. Nothing jumped out as being pain-free, but some did seem like they'd suck less than others. Quistis slid to the edge of the bed and stood up, but a second later yelped as Seifer sat behind her, looped his arms around her waist, and pulled her down into his lap. There was a surprisingly hard scratch of her spine scales down the center of his chest and stomach, but the discomfort was gone in a flash and Quistis seemed more surprised than hurt by the sudden impact.

 

“How's this?” He asked, nuzzling her neck.

 

Quistis laughed a little and then deliberately wriggled in his lap, making Seifer's breath leave in a stutter as the enticing rolling of her behind temporarily suspended awareness of anything else.

 

“This seems fine,” said Quistis in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the effect she was having on him. Seifer decided it was time to turn the tables. Without further warning he started kissing the back of her neck and smiled against Quistis's skin when her breathless chuckle of amusement softened into happy hums. She ran her hands up and down his legs as he started kissing her more, encouraged by the little noises purring past her lips, and moved down the slim line of her neck to get the particular weak spot around the top of her shoulder. Impulse made Seifer pause, however, and then experimentally lick one of the scales coming off the top of Quistis's spine. It was more of a poke than anything else, but the gasp and jump she made was like he'd licked somewhere else entirely.

 

“Bad?” He asked.

 

“N-not exactly...” She mumbled. She sounded incredibly embarrassed.

 

He grinned. Seifer licked again and the stuttering moan that came past Quistis's lips made him want to burst out laughing. She half-glared at him over her shoullder.

 

“Leave those alone,” she told him sternly. “It feels weird when you do that.”

 

“Aww, come on,” said Seifer, now unspeakably amused. “Might as well get _some_ sort of use out of them.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?” He licked the same spot a third time, sucking very lightly at the end, and this time Quistis nearly fell over in his lap. “You seem to like it.”

 

“Yes, well...” Quistis covered the back of her neck with both hands and blushed prettily despite glasslike distortion from the scales on her cheeks. “I don't want to give them incentive to stick around. Leave them alone.”

 

“Fiiine. For now.” Seifer deliberately traced the point of his tongue right alongside one of the scales and Quistis trembled like mad in his arms. The silky feel of her skin under his palms was like an invitation to slide one hand down her stomach, but he skimmed to tease his fingertips along her inner thigh as Quistis pushed her hips toward his hand in anticipation. It delighted him to no end how she just could not wait for what they both wanted no matter how many times they did it, though it was a sentiment he could understand very well. The way Quistis was squirming and rocking her hips in his lap was wearing down his patience too, especially when she leaned forward a little to glide more of herself against him and looked at him over her shoulder with a heavy-lidded look that he remembered seeing when she was just about to lose it. The surge of hot desire that overwhelmed him then had Seifer sliding his hand underneath Quistis's panties as soon as thinking about it, and he swore as he felt how wet she was. When had that happened? Once again the heights of Quistis's desire caught Seifer off-guard as she grasped his hand and wriggled at the same time, and the cry of joyful satisfaction she made as his fingers slipped inside with no resistance made Seifer's heart swell with affection. He nipped her shoulder, realizing too late he was biting down on a scale, but Quistis reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, pinning his head to that position. Seifer mentally shrugged. If she was in pain, she'd tell him. So he licked the slick scale under his teeth and Quistis curled against him like she could get more of that contact if she pressed hard enough. Her nails dug into his neck so hard that Seifer knew he'd have several red crescents later.

 

“Still want me to leave these alone?” Seifer asked lightly and he couldn't help but laugh as Quistis growled at him—literally, she growled, though the noise was all frustrated woman and not at all monsterlike. “Come on...”

 

“ _Fine,_ just—” Quistis rocked impatiently against Seifer's hand, her brain awash with a strength of desire that was making it hard to think. She had already been very turned on from kissing earlier: the unusual slow tenderness combined with a rush of grateful affection made for a powerful cocktail of arousal and now Quistis couldn't think of anything except getting Seifer inside her any way possible. His thicker, longer fingers were able to reach elusive deep spots and apply perfect friction against places she had to struggle to reach, and while Quistis had brought some toys to Shumi Village, something that buzzed was the last thing she wanted right now. It had been _so long!_ The ache for Seifer's touch was so bad that Quistis felt like she was living for the hot rush of his breath against her neck, the steely flex of his chest and stomach against her back, and there was something about the way he hooked his legs around hers to pull them apart for better access that made the most indescribably delicious tremble go through her thighs. When she felt him start to tease one of her nipples, the feeling of his warm hand against her breast made her cry out with renewed desire and that made Seifer start curling his fingers inside her, stroking every bit of those incredibly sensitive places until Quistis was shuddering and jerking with every subtle touch. And _then_ there was the touch of his mouth against the juncture of her neck and shoulder, electric with pleasure in a way Quistis could not remember before. It felt like every vein in her body was pulsing and pounding for more and it almost felt too intense, especially after months of longing and imagination, but with the breakneck recklessness of a skydiver Quistis threw herself into the feeling without reservation.

 

As soon as she abandoned thought, the ramping thrill in her blood took off into a sharp, familiar, and ever-increasing peak. Seifer tightened his grip on her in the most loving restraints anyone could ever ask for as Quistis surged for more, her hips lifting off Seifer's lap as she tried to get even more sensation out of his clever fingers, and imagining just what little more she needed to get what she wanted ironically sent her over the edge. Seifer's soft laugh of disbelief tickled her ear and neck as the past three months of missed orgasms seemingly caught up all at once, and a noise that was half a scream and half a sob burst from her throat as sheer physical pleasure launched it out like a cannonball. Her vision seemed to go out of focus with the force of the wave breaking and the ragged gasps made irregular with further shivers and shakes of joy. But there was no wash of relaxation after the break. She needed more.

 

“God, please say that was as good as it looked,” said Seifer, his voice thick and low with lust. “I wonder how many times I can get you to do that.”

 

He punctuated his words with a hard thrust of his fingers that made Quistis gasp, but wonderful though that felt, it was not what she wanted. When she said as much, Seifer chuckled.

 

“Aww, are you sure?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really sure?” He asked slyly, nipping at her neck again and modulating the thrust of his fingers to a pace she usually enjoyed. The pressure was very nice, but instead of delight Quistis felt a growing irritation.

 

“Yes, I'm sure.”

 

“I think I want to make you cum a few more times like this.”

 

Oh, that was _it._ Quistis wriggled free and whipped around, eyes narrowed with pique. She leaned down, seized the cuffs of Seifer's pants, and yanked upwards so Seifer fell onto his back with a yell. His pants came off with a second yank and Quistis threw them over her shouder without a second thought, her attention occupied by the fact that thank goodness, Seifer didn't have any underwear for her to remove. Seifer laughed aloud and scooted back so his legs weren't hanging awkwardly off the edge of the bed, but something in Quistis's lust-addled brain interpreted the motion as _'he's trying to get away'_ and she all but jumped onto him, grabbing Seifer's upper arms at the same time and pulling hard enough that he fell back on the mattress. He kept laughing at her, though the hearty noise simmered into a chuckle.

 

“Be gentle with me,” he said cheekily. “It's been a long time.”

 

From the way Seifer's eyes practically glowed in the low light, he didn't actually want gentleness. Quistis rested her hands on his chest like she'd chased him down and pounced on him, and the sight of him pinned underneath her was more appealing than words could describe.

 

“It's because it's been such a long time that gentleness is the last thing you're getting,” she said. Seifer looked delighted but attemped to put on a serious face.

 

“I don't know, Quistis. Here I am with my heart on my sleeve, and you're just using me for my body.”

 

Quistis looked at him archly. Clearly Seifer wanted to play more before getting down to business, but she was _so_ not in the mood for banter! She debated rolling off the bed and going for the vibrator in her bag specifically she knew it would goad Seifer into banging her on the floor, but with the pleasure still thrumming in her body came an awareness of the scales and how they would rub and chafe on the carpet if she moved. Quistis nearly huffed in irritation, but there was more than one way to play.

 

“That's right,” she said, and Seifer's brows rose in disbelief. “So shut up and hold onto something. Here,” she said, grabbing a pillow off the bed and tossing it onto his face. “You can scream into that.”

 

Seifer batted the pillow away with a laugh that choked off as soon as he saw Quistis briskly removing her underclothes and flinging them off to join the rest of their clothes on the floor. His eyes flicked from her face to her breasts to her hands as Quistis grasped his cock with the nice firm squeeze she knew drove him crazy and maneuvered into the right position. Seifer arched, his patience clearly just as strained as hers, but Quistis rose a little onto her knees and looked at him significantly.

 

“I said, hold onto something,” she said, and Seifer's eyes flashed with annoyance. It was unexpectedly fun.

 

“Fine,” he said, and grabbed her hips hard enough that two slaps echoed around the room. “Good enough?”

 

“It's a start,” said Quistis, and just as Seifer opened his mouth to snap, she let herself down in one decisive motion. Whatever smart remark Seifer had in mind was mangled into an incoherent cry of pleased surprise, though Quistis wasn't cognizant enough to recognize separate words either. Every wriggle to get him completely fitted and familiar after too much time apart demanded all her attention, though a corner of Quistis's mind noted that the scales over her left shin were starting to throb in an ominous way the longer she rocked against Seifer and made those scales rub against the sheets. Seifer was matching the motion of her hips as best as he could with Quistis grinding him into the bed, his fingertips digging into her swell of her hips as he took the command to 'hold on' very seriously. She _loved_ the total focus in him; it was like the rest of the world did not exist when they were together, especially so intimately connected. Every motion reset for her heartbeat in a way that made Quistis feel like she was living for more of this togetherness, except...

 

“ _Ow. Ow. OW. OW!”_

 

Oh, how she _hated_ those scales on her leg! It was like someone was shaving off her skin and bone with a blade just dull enough that she could feel every nick on the edge. Quistis felt like weeping as discomfort finally overrode the treasured feeling of connection she wanted. The thwarted rise of thickening pleasure in her veins was secondary to the pain down her leg, but not by much: if she didn't have some sort of release soon, it would literally hurt. She could feel the pressure just about to break even with the pain, and yet the pain was just distracting enough that she couldn't move the way she needed without a red-hot vine piercing her shin, pooling in her knee, and now creeping up the side of her thigh to go for her hip...

 

Without warning Seifer sat up, nearly making Quistis fall over with the sudden movement. As he moved he glanced down at her leg and his eyes momentarily tightened, which made Quistis cringe. She was afraid to see if her leg looked as raw as it felt. With surprising tact (or maybe it was focus on the prize), Seifer said nothing and wrapped his arms around her waist. Quistis blinked in surprise when she saw him smirking.

 

“What are you—”

 

Seifer flung himself to the side and rolled them both off the bed, making Quistis grab onto him in first surprise and then sudden shock as the motion pressed every scale on her back like a button. Before she had time to object, she was in the air; Seifer had landed on his feet on the floor and was holding her up like she weighed nothing, and a few steps took them to the desk that was near the bed. As soon as he sat her on the edge of the desk, Quistis realized what Seifer was after and couldn't help but laugh softly.

 

“You wouldn't prefer the wall?” She asked, looping her arms around his neck. “We probably wouldn't fall down this time.”

 

“Yeah, but I don't feel like breaking my dick today.”

 

“Is there ever a day when... Mm.” Quistis sighed and put her head on Seifer's shoulder as he started moving in and out of her, taking the tempo they'd been forced to abandon earlier and hooking his arms under her knees so she wasn't holding them awkwardly at his sides. Quistis tightened her grip to pull herself as close to Seifer as possible, the press of Seifer's chest against hers making an otherwise demanding position soft and tender. A fanciful part of her mind was convinced she could feel his heart beating practically on top of hers and she set her lips against his neck, smiling a little as she tasted a sheen of sweat and felt the quickening pop of his pulse under her tongue. She jumped when he bent down just enough to bite her shoulder, his teeth grazing one of the scales again—but that was fine. As before, a weird but totally pleasurable warmth radiating out from that point of contact and seemed to add even more fuel to the fire within. Why couldn't the ones on her leg be like this? Maybe because they weren't being touched so sweetly...

 

The way Seifer held her and pulled her close over and over again made Quistis powerfully aware of just how wonderful it was to be alive, and it was like all she was bent toward the pressure of his hands on her body and the driving presence inside her. The desk clacked into the wall and then creaked as Seifer and Quistis each strained for the elusive, maddening surge of pleasure they both wanted. It was not long in coming. As awareness of the world seemed to shrink down and stretch out to obsess over every detail of the moment, Quistis gasped Seifer's name over and over like it was a prayer before the wave broke and dragged her under. She was barely aware of Seifer cursing a blue streak, either from release (hopefully) or her nails digging into his shoulders (more likely), and Quistis tucked her head against the curve of his shoulder as the last of her trembling seemed to blend into the start of his. The ragged gasp of Seifer's breathing calming down soothed the last of her worries, especially when he shifted his grip to hold her one-armed and twine his fingers in her hair with the other. After an indeterminate amount of time, he kissed her neck and turned/fell back onto the bed. Quistis laughed a little breathlessly until Seifer propped himself up to look at her.

 

“Worth it?” He asked. Quistis opened her mouth to answer but instead stared at his neck. Something shiny glinted there. For a terrifying second Quistis was convinced the scales were contagious. Then Seifer cocked his head and the shiny thing fell off him to land on her cheek with a surprisingly heavy 'plop'. Seifer picked it up and looked at it curiously.

 

“Huh,” he said, then sat up a little more and looked around. Quistis cringed when she saw more scales sticking to his stomach like he'd been cleaning a very large fish, but when she glanced down at her own she saw that her scales were gone. Then Seifer started snickering.

 

“What?”

 

“I banged the beast out of the beauty,” he said, and after a moment of stunned disbelief, Quistis smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Seifer just laughed again and gestured. “Look. They're all over the place.”

 

Quistis sat up. There was indeed a scattering of scales on the desk and on the floor, and when Quistis looked down at her arms and legs, only a few still remained. When she experimentally pulled on one, it came free like she was pulling off a piece of tape, and aside from a mild burning sensation, there was no pain. The skin underneath was even the same color as the unscaled parts of her.

 

“I knew they'd go away if you stopped thinking about them.”

 

Quistis gave him a look but was too relieved to put much heat behind it. So she checked her leg to see if the scales on her shin were still there, and she was just relaxed enough not to be worried when she saw a gleaming crystalline smatter of scales remaining. But they were small and highly polished now (from friction?) and when she rubbed them, it felt exactly like poking a callus. Wryly Quistis wondered if Makine knew of _this_ method of rapid de-transformation and had to cut that train of thought off before it turned hilarious and/or disturbing.

 

“I think I'm going to keep this one,” said Seifer, holding the face scale and turning it so light glittered across the fine striations on it. “Looks like a shark's tooth.”

 

“If you say so,” said Quistis, lying down and stretching luxuriantly; the motion made a few scales unstick from her back. “Well, that was my earth-shattering secret. What was yours?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“You said you wanted to talk about something, but only in person.”

 

“Oh.” Seifer curled his hand around the scale. It felt sharper and lighter than thick plastic, as well as indefinably organic. The bite of it against his palm helped keep him focused in the moment instead of panicking about things going wrong when everything felt right. He took another moment to settle himself more properly on the bed, lying on his back and looking up at the domed light in the ceiling. It was easier to talk about soft, squishy stuff like this when he didn't have to make eye contact with someone.

 

“So you remember when... You told me about my birth family?”

 

“Yes,” said Quistis, her voice dropping into an attentive and serious register. Tactfully she said nothing about him being completely bonkers when she'd conveyed the information, nor that he had tried to throttle her to death rather than believe what she was saying was true.

 

“Did that book help you? The one I gave you in Dollet?”

 

“The book? Oh.” Seifer shook his head. “Yeah, a little. Gave me some names. And uh... I think I found them. My family.”

 

Quistis sat up, alert in every line. “What!”

 

“Well, more like I think I found a cousin.” Seifer gripped the scale, feeling the edges cut into his hand even more. “She's my CO. And the reason I have this room. And the clothes I was wearing earlier. And—”

 

“Does she know who you are?”

 

He shook his head. “No, I don't think so. But if she does, it makes sense why she's being, well... Nice to me. She gave me all these old videos of... Of my father. And my mother. I'm even on them as a baby.”

 

“Seifer...”

 

“The really weird thing is she looks like me. Same eyes, same color hair, even same kind of nose. We yell at people the same. She's got a temper like mine.” Seifer pressed his hands to his face, all his ease gone now. Why did he feel like crying? “She keeps asking if I want to come over to her house and have a family dinner with everyone and I can't—I can't—”

 

Quistis was immediately at his side, holding him tightly as he hissed for breath between clenched teeth and a throat that was locking up for no good reason. All the growing paranoia and awful gaping hunger he'd been silently suffering for nearly three months seemed to be rushing to the surface now, especially because Quistis was an orphan too and she just _got_ it.

 

“Fuck, I shouldn't be telling you this. You don't—”

 

Quistis shook her head with a small smile of understanding. “It's alright. I have Xu and you and my magic.”

 

“But—”

 

“Don't worry about me right now.” Her voice lightened. “I think we've done enough of that already. What's your cousin's name?”

 

 _His cousin._ Hearing someone else say the word made Seifer swallow hard as something seemed to flutter in his chest. “Eos. Eos Labdanum.”

 

“You said she's your CO?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How did you meet?”

 

Seifer told her that story, and then some others when she asked. It felt painful but good to finally talk to someone who just got it. After years of standing outside the window and refusing to look in, Seifer could not ignore the life he might have had if even one of his parents had just made it. He could have gone into the army like his cousin and been the head of his own squad by now, or be training with his father to be an architect when he wasn't being a Zodiac Brave. He could have been in government like his mother. Quistis listened to everything like hearing these little shreds of what he _knew_ about his birth life weren't tearing her apart too, and eventually when he ran out of things to say Seifer just held her hand and felt nothing but sadness. It would have been one thing to talk about what was coming next, but there was no 'next' in this situation. He couldn't go further than where he was now and he sure as shit couldn't share his joy of finding real family with one of the people he loved most.

 

“At least the job's good,” said Seifer tiredly. “Pay's _real_ good. I know I should move on, but I'm really close to having my own boat.”

 

“Why do you want a boat?”

 

“Because it makes the most sense for me to have. I could sail in, sail out, do what I like whenever I want...” He squeezed her hand. “See whoever I want. Get something big enough to stay off the grid for months whenever the hunt gets too hot. There were a couple of models in FH I was interested in, but some of the Estharian boats are pretty cool too. That's what the White SeeD Ship is, you know.”

 

“It is very distinctive.”

 

“And it's fast. I need speed just as much as anything else.” He sighed and laid down, feeling exhausted in all the bad ways now. “If I could run in and out like that, maybe I could.... But no. I'm still worth a lot of money dead or alive, so it wouldn't be worth the risk of letting the Labdanums know who I am. They wouldn't know me anyway, let alone welcome me back with open arms or some shit.”

 

“For what it's worth, I think they'd be proud of you,” said Quistis. When Seifer looked at her flatly, she said, “It's not everyone who keeps going despite such terrible odds.”

 

“Yeah, well... My father died rather than serve Adel, so I think they'd feel different about me and the Bitch Witch.”

 

“Maybe. Maybe not. According to that book I gave you, the Zodiac Braves were very close with sorceresses in general, so they'd probably understand better than anyone else just how little control you had.”

 

“I guess...” Seifer put his hands over his face again. Then with a loud huff, he swung up off the bed and dusted off a few scales that were sticking to his skin. “You hungry? I'm hungry.”

 

“I could eat.”

 

“Good. I gotta warn you, though, Estharian food is kind of shitty. It's made to feed everyone but not necessarily taste good.”

 

“Oh... Lovely.”

 

“You get used to it.”

 

“I'm sure I will.” Quistis got off the bed too, finger-combing little scales from her hair. “By the way, I'll probably be splitting my time between you and some other people before I leave. They'll know I'm in the area anyway and they'll wonder why I didn't say hello.”

 

Seifer scowled. She didn't have to name names for him to know who she was talking about, because if it was just any old person, she'd tell them to fuck off. _Certain people_ might get suspicious, however, and with the close call back in Fisherman's Horizon, Seifer didn't feel like taking any more chances than usual. It was still hard for him to shake the feeling that the Garden and SeeD were stealing what was most important to him.

 

“But that won't be for a while yet,” said Quistis, looking at Seifer with a fond smile. Reaching out to pick up her underwear, she said, “So, after some sort of awful food, what would you like to do?”

 

“You again.” Flipping the scale into the air like it was a coin, he said, “I'm thinking I can bang a few more of these off you if I get you to come hard enough.”

 

“I certainly welcome you to try, but I'd also like to make some memories with you that aren't in bed.” As Quistis dressed, she said, “This will be my last bit of freedom for... Oh, who knows.”

 

“You know—”

 

“Seifer, don't start. Please.”

 

“I was going to say, you wanna see where I work?”

 

Quistis looked at him in surprise. “What? Seifer, that's—”

 

“Not inside the building, I ain't that careless. I mean we'll get something and I'll tell you about it from a safe distance.”

 

“Oh... Well, alright then.” She smiled a little shyly. “I have to confess, I am _very_ interested in that organization. You make it sound very exciting in your messages.”

 

Seifer preened. It wasn't his real job and certainly not his passion to be working at the XDI, but it did feel nice to have Quistis say she thought it was cool. It also made him feel better about putting down roots when he really should be running. After all, Quistis was going back to SeeD and keeping what they had would be...

 

“ _Impossible.”_

 

Really, really difficult.

 

“ _It's worth it._ She's _worth it. I'm not giving up any more than I already have to, any more than I've already lost. This is the_ last _thing I'm going to lose no matter what.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Emotional whiplash left and right :P

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	40. Chapter 40

Screaming was not a sound Squall had ever expected to hear coming out of Laguna's office, but there was no mistaking the noise for anything else. Automatically Squall sorted the noise into 'exasperated' rather than 'in pain' or 'dying', so he approached with curiosity rather than caution. At his side, Rinoa giggled.

 

“Maybe we should come back,” she said, snickering in a pause between the screams.

 

“We're supposed to have lunch now.”

 

“I know, but... Doesn't it sound like he's in the middle of something?”

 

“I guess. But I'm hungry now and so are you.” And Squall pushed the pressure panel on the wall, making the double doors to the Presidential Office slide open. Not surprisingly, Kiros, Ellone, and Ward were in the office too, and all of them were watching a very large screen that was projected in the air and showing some politician Squall immediately did not like the look of. Laguna was directly in front of the screen and clutching his leg while still screaming, though now that the door was open, Squall could hear modulations in the steady “GAHHHHH” that matched the general tone of what the politician was saying.

 

“I hate that _sharmouta,”_ said Kiros, all but seething. Ward nodded solemnly. Ellone sighed and then noticed Squall and Rinoa were in the office. She laughed a little and tapped Laguna on the shoulder, making him turn around and then freeze in a comically awkward posture, one leg off the ground and mouth still open for screaming. 

 

“Hey,” he croaked out and then wrenched himself to stand feet wide apart with arms akimbo. “We're supposed to have lunch, aren't we?”

 

“Why are you screaming?” Squall asked with a frown.

 

“Ahh, you know, it's my leg...”

 

“It's the man on the screen.”

 

“Ennnh, yeah.” Laguna sighed dramatically. “He's...”

 

“An evil fascist xenophobe who condones child murder?” Rinoa suggested brightly, making everyone look at her in surprise. She put her hands on her hips too, rocking onto her toes a little as she said, “Hey, I'm the Galbadian liaison to Esthar, remember? I know who Zoloman Ghan is.”

 

Laguna gave Rinoa a big thumbs-up and an even bigger smile. “You all heard her say those terrible things. Not me.”

 

“Is this the guy who said it was good that all those orphans died several months ago?” Squall asked, looking at everyone.

 

“Technically, he implied it,” said Kiros with a scowl. “But yes. That is the ass.”

 

“We hate him,” said Ellone conversationally.

 

“I don't blame you. But what's he doing that's making Laguna scream now?”

 

“It's an election year and Zolomon is running,” said Ellone, gesturing at the fast-scrolling worm on the bottom of the screen. It was in Estharian and meant nothing to Squall, but Ellone gave him the gist of it when she said, “He's also kind of winning out of all the other candidates.”

 

“How many other candidates are there?”

 

“Six.”

 

“Laguna's still in the lead, but this is the closest anyone's come to unseating him,” said Kiros to Squall.

 

“I wouldn't mind stepping down now except Zolomon is bad for Esthar,” said Laguna, scowling at the screen. “He calls himself a Purist because he wants to close the borders again, but we don't have ways to make food or medicine or take back the surface without outside help.”

 

“Then why is he winning?”

 

“Because he's got this plan to build bunds off the coast and people want to be out in the sun,” said Laguna, his expression tightening with self-disappointment. “New Esthar's already crowded, but it's going to be dangerously overcrowded in three years. I didn't think we'd lose so much ground to the Beasts so quick, or that Trabia would get toasted and be totally unable to take anybody. Ghan takes every opportunity to point out 'shortsightedness' and—”

 

“There wouldn't even _be_ an Esthar, New or otherwise, without you!” said Rinoa passionately, and Laguna smiled lopsidedly.

 

“That's the other thing,” he sighed. “'Government overreach'.”

 

“Everybody was kind of freaked out that New Esthar is as big as it is,” said Kiros, Ward nodding solemnly. “Realizing that it was basically built in secret right underneath their feet made people think about Adel and Lunatic Pandora, never mind that Laguna didn't use POW's or political prisoners or conscripted crews of dissidents. To a lot of people, especially people in the poorer districts, the fact that New Esthar exists at all is a big problem.”

 

“And how many of those people are used to being rich on the surface and having entire suites for each family member?” Ellone asked archly. Kiros sighed and Ward just help up his hands, shaking his head. To Rinoa and Squall, Ellone said, “And now those same people are mad because they actually have to share space with each other AND they can't buy their way into the spaces they want. They should try living on a boat for 12 years. Straight.”

 

“In any case, Ghan's got people ready to vote him in so he'll get them out,” said Laguna somewhat glumly. “I'm just not moving fast enough on retaking the surface.”

 

“What's the holdup?” Squall asked, frowning. “I thought SeeD was doing well.”

 

“Oh, yeah! You are. But we can't keep the Beasts permanently out of any area we've cleared, and that makes repairing certain facilities almost impossible.” Laguna rubbed his leg, now looking very depressed. “We've got some repelling things in the works, but they only seem to work for one Beast type at a time and it's getting really expensive to keep making new soundmines for each type that pops up. We've got to try something else, but we don't know what. Yet.”

 

“Go get some lunch, Uncle Laguna,” said Ellone, patting him on the arm. “The problems will still be here when you get back, but Squall and Rinoa are only here for another week. We'll keep an eye on Ghan for you.”

 

Squall looked up at the screen. Zolomon Ghan's long face, broad cheekbones, and knife-edge nose were very distinctive, but it was the expression of condescending superiority that made Squall's lips thin. He looked very middle Estharian—skin that was the picture of 'tan' in the dictionary, dark wavy hair and thick eyebrows, and his beard was as dense and immaculately trimmed as a jet hedgerow. The vaguely condescending look on his face was probably meant to look sympathetic and wise, and it was tempting to dismiss Ghan based on dislike. But to Squall, anyone who could make Laguna lose his temper was cause for concern and the fact that he was apparently close to unseating Laguna made Ghan even more of a person to be watched. There was no guarantee Laguna's successor would continue to contract SeeD.

 

Lunch with Laguna was nice and relaxed, two concepts Squall was slowly getting used to. He was not sure how to interact with Laguna most of the time. The orphan yearning to find out about his past had never been particularly strong for Squall, though he wondered if he'd feel differently if Ellone hadn't connected their minds so often. And while he objectively knew Laguna was his father, Laguna didn't feel like a father yet and Squall did not feel like a son. Laguna felt like an older friend, sometimes wiser, often very silly when the mood hit him. Watching him interact with Rinoa, Squall often thought that Laguna acted more fatherly towards  _her_ though maybe some of that was due to her being Julia Heartilly's daughter: while Laguna had loved Raine above all, there'd always been a soft spot for his longtime crush too. Naturally he'd be positively inclined toward her daughter even if said daughter was a sorceress with the powers of an evil dictator. In any case, Squall was not jealous of how easily Rinoa and Laguna got along. He was content to sit and watch them chat, and occasionally join in when it was pertinent. Observing Laguna from the outside of the man's head was just fine for now and even though a lot of time had been lost, Squall appreciated that Laguna wasn't trying to rush a relationship of any kind. Or so he thought until later that evening, when he heard a knock on the door of the rooms he had with Rinoa and opened it up to find Laguna standing there with a big grin and a lump of fabric thrown over each arm. 

 

“Let's go exploring!”

 

“...What?”

 

“Have fun on your date!” Rinoa shouted from inside the room. Angelo was on her lap, a book was in her hands, and her bra was off, which told Squall he was definitely not going on a date with her. Squall looked at Rinoa oddly from her nest of pillows on the bed and then back at Laguna.

 

“Aww, you don't remember, do you?” Laguna handed Squall one of the usual long white Estharian robes, saying, “At lunch. I asked if you wanted to go exploring the city and you said 'sure'.”

 

“You meant today?”

 

“Yeah! You're not busy, are you?”

 

“I guess not, but—”

 

“Great!”

 

“ _But I was planning to do nothing,”_ thought Squall, slightly dismayed. Alone time was particularly precious to him nowadays with all the demands made on him, but at the same time Laguna was practically vibrating with excitement, Rinoa wasn't going anywhere, and Squall could admit that the idea of exploring New Esthar with someone who actually knew the place sounded good. Rinoa was wonderful, but she ran all over the place like a chocobo in open fields for the first time and it seemed half the time they were getting lost instead of getting anywhere. Squall was seriously considering carrying a map and compass. 

 

Robes on, Squall and Laguna went out. Laguna informed Squall that these were an older style that were making a comeback thanks to some people wanting to hide miasma damage, so nobody recognized the SeeD Commander and the President of Esthar underneath top-to-toe robes with little rectangles cut out for the eyes. Laguna had a hat that was shaped like an ancient hammer and a neon green tabard, which made it easy for Squall to locate him as they took the lift down to New Esthar and started navigating the crowds. Squall had been in New Esthar before, but only the tourist areas since Rinoa wanted to see the best and brightest of what the strangest city-country in the world could offer. Laguna apparently had other ideas.

 

“I like running around in disguise,” said Laguna to Squall as they walked away from the Palace. “It gives me a feel for what's actually going on, you know? Reminds me of when I worked for Timber Maniacs. Hey, wanna see something weird?”

 

“What do you mean, 'weird'?”

 

Laguna's eyes gleamed. “Super weird.”

 

No wonder Selphie had a low-level crush on Laguna. “Am I going to regret seeing it?”

 

“Nah.”

 

“Will Rinoa be mad she missed it?”

 

“Nah!”

 

“Alright... Let's go.”

 

“That's the spirit!” said Laguna happily, and a series of hovers later they were in one of the food-producing districts. Squall had no idea what to make of this until Laguna towed him to a fishery that was perched at the edge of a huge underground lake like a black mirror that stretched almost as far as the eye could see.

 

“Guess what we pull out of here!”

 

“...I couldn't even begin to guess.”

 

Laguna beamed. He'd flashed special access so he and Squall were at the otherwise fenced-off lakeshore itself, and hauling up his sleeve Laguna reached fearlessly into the water and yanked something out. Squall recoiled; it was not clear water against a dark bottom, but some completely opaque black fluid that slipped off Laguna's arm like he'd coated himself in nonstick spray. Also, Laguna was holding a miniature Oilboyle that was flopping in a nauseatingly boneless way.

 

“ _So that's where those things came from,”_ thought Squall as Laguna laughed and said, “Gross-looking but tasty!”

 

“I'll take your word for it.”

 

“What? But you ate it last night! You said it was good!”

 

Squall boggled. “What?”

 

“Come on, catch one!”

 

“I'd rather not.”

 

“It's easy! See, like this... CATCH!”

 

Squall ducked as Laguna lobbed the Oilboyle at him. It went flying over his head and then disappeared with a disturbingly deep PLORP back into the oily lake, and Laguna laughed.

 

“Sorry, I couldn't help it,” sighed Laguna, flinging the slippery water off his hand. Folding his arms, he said, “This was one of the first areas we started thinking about for New Esthar. A lot of people don't know this, but Esthar was sitting on a huge network of underground caverns already. We just tidied up a few and stuck some buildings down here. I always come down here to see how far we've come.”

 

“ _And what you don't want to go back to,”_ thought Squall, looking at the black lake with new respect. 

 

“I don't know what I'm doing, Squall,” said Laguna somberly, and when Squall looked at him in surprise, the man smiled a bit tiredly and said, “You probably knew that already. But I mean it, really. I feel like I've been hopping from one crisis to another and I don't want to do that anymore. I want to retire. I want to actually be a father to you.”

 

Oh. Squall looked away awkwardly, not sure what to say.

 

“I know you're busy and I don't want to force my way into your life, but I don't want to be the kind of guy who only calls when there's something I need you to do.”

 

“ _But I like that,”_ thought Squall. _“Then I know what to do.”_

 

“Problem is, I'm afraid if I leave, there's gonna be huge problems.” Laguna reached down and rubbed his leg absently, his gaze going out over the lake. “Ghan keeps insisting we should push north to get some of the people out of here, but I'm not gonna invade south Trabia just because they're too weak to push us off. Plus if we take Trabia, Galbadia's gonna think we're gearing up to invade and they'll start rattling sabers too. SeeD's gonna get pulled into it again and you guys are more in a hole than we are in terms of people available.”

 

“What about those bunds he wanted to build?”

 

“Out of what material, Squall?” Laguna sighed heavily and looked at Squall with dark, tired eyes. “All our industry is gone—building, mining, forging, all of that. We have no way to get what raw materials we need, and even with us collapsing all the nonessential tunnels and using their parts, we just don't have enough to go around. And we're running out of money. What we bring in from tourists just isn't enough, and selling our fabric is working out okay but it's still not enough for what we need.”

 

Was he asking for help? Was he asking for a solution? Squall's mouth went dry. His mind worked well enough when it came to battle and mission planning, but economics and infrastructure were so much bigger and more complex.

 

“I could go back to the field,” said Squall slowly. When Laguna looked at him strangely, he said, “I could clear a lot of Beasts. It would make things easier for a while.”

 

“Heh! You're sweet, but no.” Laguna clapped him on the shoulder, making Squall jump a bit from the sudden touch. “I'm actually really glad I don't have to worry about you. I know you can take care of yourself, but we just found each other and if that time gets cut short, I don't know what I'd do.”

 

Damn it. Damn Laguna and his ease with emotions. Squall looked down at the ground and tried to wrestle what he was supposed to do out of a welter of low panic, resentment, and a surprising amount of affection. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to get along with, but Laguna did not care. As evidenced by the fact that Laguna gave him a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and looked back out at the black lake, once again slipping into his problems without asking anything more of Squall. Ironically the urge to do something became much stronger.

 

“If you want, you could come to Balamb,” said Squall, still looking at the ground. “The weather's nice. There are houses for sale. And there's fish there too. Normal ones.”

 

Laguna was quiet for a long time. At first Squall wasn't sure Laguna had heard him because he'd fallen into a childlike mumble, but when Squall glanced up through his long bangs he saw the older man staring at him wide-eyed.

 

“You know...” said Laguna, smiling slowly. “I might take you up on that.”

 

Squall just nodded. His chest was aching for some reason.

 

They spent a little longer looking at the oily lake before heading back to the populated sections of New Esthar. While Laguna had Rinoa's penchant for wandering off the beaten track, knowing they could not really get lost took a lot of stress off Squall's mind and he let himself look around and enjoy the surroundings. There were multiple layers to New Esthar and within each layer were terraces and islands of varying size that both made use of the natural stone and surprisingly efficient use of space. This also meant that some areas actually had views, and Squall and Laguna stopped by one such area that was made even lovelier with thick curtains of hanging blooms covering the safety rail and growing down from the cave ceiling to create a green maze. Laguna chatted about how the plants had been engineered to purify the air with maximum efficiency as families, little children, and tourists alike navigated the maze with giggles and exclamations over the various whimsical statues inside. To hear him talk, New Esthar was fairyland under earth.

 

“And here's the center,” said Laguna as he and Squall turned around a 'corner' and found themselves in a large circular area about half-full of tourists. Despite the many strange things Squall had seen in his young life, he was still impressed by the thirty-foot tall pillar of gently gleaming crystal that branched out like a tree along both cave floor and ceiling, and his brows further raised as he realized it was pulsing gently with a white light apparently from within. There was a pool of some gleaming liquid around the base of it, as well as a low safety rail and little signs in both Common and Estharian reminding people not to disturb the natural environment.

 

“What is that?” Squall asked, pointing at the pillar.

 

“I dunno. Let's read the plaque.”

 

“ _So you don't know everything about New Esthar,”_ thought Squall, amused. He started to walk forward but then out of nowhere, a thunderbolt of alarm jangled his senses. Immediately Squall dropped into a crouch and looked around, eyes widening and darting around the clearing as his entire body sang with danger. One did not survive in the field if one questioned this instinct, but as Squall looked around he saw nothing around the clearing that looked even remotely dangerous. Of course, his view of the surroundings was massively impaired by thick curtains of greenery that muffled sound as well as sight. Not caring that he looked like a massive paranoid freak, Squall put his hand on the hilt of the Lionheart, which he always carried at the side of his belt. Most of the time the blade was deactivated and now Squall thumbed the trigger just in case. 

 

“Squall? What's wrong?” Laguna's voice seemed to come from far away. Squall moved close to him like the valuable target he was and kept looking around, standing just close enough to his father that he could feel the light pressure of the man's vital energy against his own.

 

“I don't know yet,” said Squall, pulling off the top of his Estharian robe for better visibility. As soon as the hood was gone, two things happened; first, a tourist who was taking a photo of her friends in front of the crystalline tree noticed the handsome young man with the world-famous scar on his face, and second, Squall saw a reddish mist out of the corner of his eye. It hung low to the ground for a second, lazy like all smoke was, and then abruptly disappeared like it had been vacuumed up as a weird dissonant chime went through the air. Squall had no idea what it was but the hairs on the back of his neck and arms prickled like he could scare off whatever he'd just been looking at and inside his chest, Squall felt Shiva and Diablos figuratively pick up their heads. Even though he didn't junction them anymore, they seemed to enjoy being close to him and Rinoa surmised it was because they were feeding on the Sorceress/Knight bond instead of his memories. Whatever the case was, Squall was glad they were around and junctioned them both with a thought. At once the augmented strength of para-magic rushed through his veins like something illegal, making Squall gasp a little with the sudden shockwave of strength. For the first time in over a year, he felt truly alive.

 

“OH MY GOD IT'S SQUALL LEONHART!”

 

The shriek made Squall nearly jump a foot into the air, though with junctions he probably would have cleared ten without any effort. Without meaning to he turned toward the shriek and then flinched as no less than three cell phone lights went off in his eyes, extra obnoxious for all the details he was suddenly so much more aware of. That was the only reason he missed seeing the Lunar Beast come through the plant curtains, though the shrieks of the people in the round clearing made him snap back around again. It was a terrifyingly huge Beast about half the size of a Behemoth but with all the mass, and two thick horns grew out of a massive flat face with a sculpted expression of pure ugliness. It seemed to have no neck and turned its stumpy body from side to side to study the clearing full of now screaming, panicking civilians.

 

It was a good thing Laguna was close by and just as used to high-stress situations as Squall was, because rather than freaking out, Laguna said at once, “What do you need me to do?”

 

“Call for backup,” said Squall, drawing the Lionheart and activating the blade at the same time. “And get everyone to evacuate. I'm going to hold it here.”

 

“You got this?” Laguna shook his head as the Lunar Beast charged at a family frozen with fear. “Never mind. Be safe.”

 

Squall nodded and took a deep breath. He was so rarely loud but every SeeD learned to shout across battlefields, and as he screamed loud enough to make his head hurt, the Lunar Beast stopped its charge and stared at him in apparent shock. Squall raised his hand to his face, pulling up the chilling cold energy he needed for Blizzaga. Witha surge of concentration, the air turned solid around the Beast and trapped it in place, and as it started wrenching about in a fury, Squall charged. The Beast was so big that a good third of its head was clear of the ice and the Blizzaga was already cracking. It would be free in moments.

 

“ _Gotta make this count,”_ Squall thought as he swung at the Beast's head. He knew his chances alone were slim. Even flush with some of the strongest junctions around, he could still be gored or crushed to death before any backup could arrive, so the best he could do was keep the Beast off-focus and out of its way. Unfortunately the Beast seemed thick of hide and thicker of mind, so he'd have to distract it correspondingly hard.

 

Squall pulled the trigger and the Lionheart glowed deeper blue as the hard light technology changed from all-solid to part-plasma, and rather than just cutting through the Beast's hide, there was a sizzling noise as the wound instantly cauterized. At once an eye-wateringly powerful smell of ammonia scorched the air and Squall almost choked. Some of that was due to shock. Normally the Lionheart cut through everything like a hot knife through butter, but the Lunar Beast's skull was incredibly thick and instead of brains, Squall saw a gash about two inches deep with a bare gleam of white bone underneath. Squall quashed his annoyance and cast a Blizzaga directly into the wound as he sprang back off the Beast's head, and this time he was rewarded with an air-shaking bellow of pain and a loud CRACK of breaking bone. But the Beast was not anything like badly injured, and it was already charging at Squall before he even landed on the ground. Shock made Squall move extra quick to aim the Lionheart at the Beast's tiny right eye and half-pull the trigger. This time the Lionheart flashed and a pulse of laser light burst forth like a long bullet, but his aim was off and the laser sizzled against the meaty mound of flesh right above the Beast's eye. As the Beast flinched, Squall rolled to his feet and started running, his mouth going dry. What he wouldn't give for his friends at side right now!

 

“This way, folks, come on!” Laguna shouted, waving both arms as Squall kept the Beast's focus away from the fleeing crowd. With clear directions and an obvious authority figure, the panicked fleeing turned into more of a surge and old reflexes told Laguna to run with everyone instead of directing the flow. It was not out of cowardice but sheer practicality: he was risking being trampled the longer he stood still. Yet Laguna refused to run, scanning the crowd to make sure no one was left behind. Fortunately, people had learned from the evacuation of the surface and were holding onto each other tightly as they fled, carrying children even if they were young teenagers to avoid the chance of losing them and fiercely protecting their elders instead of letting them get pulled away. At the same time, Laguna kept slapping the 'alarm' button on his watch, which would summon not only his private security detail but also the nearest contingent of free soldiers. His mind whirled with incredulous dismay. There had _never_ been a breach into New Esthar before. The train station, sure, but not New Esthar so far belowground.

 

“ _It must have come down one of the lift tunnels,”_ he thought numbly, his skin ironically alive with adrenaline. _“I know we sealed all the nonessential ones, but they still exist and they still lead down here. The Shumi swore the distance was enough that humans couldn't possibly be smelled out, but...”_

 

The abrupt chill in the air made Laguna refocus immediately in the present and he looked up to see Squall gone, but the inhumanly large and beautiful form of Shiva in his place. He couldn't help but smile a little at the Guardian Force, which he'd used both in the far and recent past, but screams from the Estharians made Laguna wish he had one of his own.

 

“Devils! Devils!” Laguna heard someone shrieking in Estharian. After 17 years in this country, he was fluent but the word still took him off guard. There was more than one Beast around?

 

“ _Wait a minute, don't the Purists call SeeDs 'devil worshippers'?”_

 

Shiva fired a column of nearly blinding white energy at the flat-faced Beast, instantly smothering it in a mountain of unnatural ice, but just as quickly ear-snapping cracks filled the air as the Beast surged and splintered its prison almost as fast as it was forming. Shiva seemed annoyed and the beam of energy intensified, but still the Beast thrashed. Laguna nearly sensed the Beast breaking free before it actually did but fortunately nearly everyone was out of the clearing when it wrenched loose and sent chunks of ice the size of cannonballs flying everywhere. Shiva vanished and Squall came back, staggering for a second as sheets of frost flaked off his body, but before he reacclimated to reality the Beast was running at him, somehow seeming to know he was the source of its annoyance. It lowered its car-sized head, massive horns aimed straight for Squall's stomach. Laguna saw immediately Squall was not going to recover in time. There was a reason SeeDs summoned when in teams of three, after all.

 

“Hey! No!” Laguna grabbed one of the fading chunks of Guardian Force ice and threw it as hard as he could. The ice fell far short of its mark but managed to catch the Beast's eye before it vanished, and Laguna's whoop of triumph became a panicked yell as the Beast veered towards him. Though its eyes were tiny, they seemed to gleam red even fifty feet away as the Beast charged him with thundering treetrunk feet. Over its shoulder Laguna could see Squall's eyes going the widest he'd ever seen in shock and fear.

 

A blaze of white light made Laguna nearly throw up his arms, except the last thing he needed was to take his eyes off the two-ton monster that was either going to eat him or trample him. But far from making him squint, Laguna instead boggled as the white light behind the Beast immediately tightened and solidified into a female form with white wings, and like an avenging angel Rinoa threw white-hot bolts of power at the Beast with power crackling out of her eyes. All at once Laguna flashed back to the first time he'd ever seen Adel use her power to roast a member of her security team that had failed her and instantly cold surges of deep fear rolled over his skin like the tides. Somehow he had made himself forget just whose power lurked in Rinoa's veins...

 

The bolts' effect on the Beast was dramatic. Laguna had seen footage of people fighting Lunar Beasts and their success varied depending on weaponry, experience, and if they had something extra like elemental power or Guardian Force support. With Shiva's help, Squall had managed to score deep cuts in the Beast's flat face and thick sides, but it had still moved like something uninjured. As soon as Rinoa's power hit it, however, the Beast _screamed_ and Laguna nearly jumped out of his skin as the white-hot power not only blew off a chunk of the Beast, but seemed to eat into what it had hit too. Squall stared. Even Rinoa seemed shocked, and the white-hot power flaring out of her stuttered to reveal her wide-eyed, open-mouthed astonishment.

 

“Keep hitting it,” said Squall to Rinoa, flinging his hand at Laguna as he spoke. A second later the crystal blue gleam of a Protect flared over Laguna and Squall, and as the spell flashed over Rinoa too, she threw two more bolts of sorceress power at the Beast. Both hit true and the Beast went up like a paper bag soaked in kerosene, burning to a skeletal mass of white-edged tatters that left black ash on the ground. There was no miasma. There was no pile of acidic slop either. Laguna stared at the ash and then at Rinoa.

 

“What did you do?” He asked as the eldritch power faded from Rinoa.

 

“Nothing,” she said, staring at the ash too. She was in the same clothes Laguna had just seen her in, pajama pants and a soft, loose shirt that was clearly for sleeping. Instead of her famous blue, both were a faded pink and even had holes from frequent wear. It was, in other words, the exact opposite of what a powerful sorceress might be wearing. “I just zapped it.”

 

“The average time for dispatching a Lunar Beast of that size is 3 minutes,” said Squall, who of course would know something like that; he was the one who assigned and rotated the teams out. “And that's with a three-person team. Rin, you destroyed it in less than 10 seconds.”

 

She shrugged helplessly, powerfully reminding Laguna that she was still new to her powers and not entirely comfortable with them. Not like Adel had been. “I just zapped it...”

 

“Mr. President!” someone shouted from behind. Laguna spun around to see the captain of his private security detail pop through the hanging plant curtains of the park, followed almost immediately by several more members of the team. Every single one of them had top-of-the-line hard light weaponry that glowed neon green instead of the usual blue and as they looked around, the captain said to Laguna, “Sir, are you injured?”

 

“Nope, I'm all good,” said Laguna, giving the man a reassuring smile. While Squall was visiting, the detail took a step back to allow Laguna to get to know his son without pressure, but they were never far away. “How are the citizens?”

 

“The local squad is taking charge of them. A few injuries, no deaths, all related to evacuation.” The captain looked at Squall. “Commander Leonhart, thank you.”

 

“You're welcome,” said Squall, his voice professionally calm. Laguna glanced over his shoulder and had to keep from jumping when he saw Rinoa standing behind Squall in a White SeeD uniform, her hair pulled back in a severe style and her face carefully blank. She did not look at all like her usual self.

 

“ _She must not have had time to teleport away,”_ thought Laguna in stunned surprise. _“Then again, she put out a lot of light when she came here, so maybe it's the same when she gets away. Smart, though; the captain would know Rinoa hadn't left with us, so she's pretending to be someone he can't argue with. She's trying to maintain her cover... She's got no interest in being a dictator or evil in any way...”_

 

“I wasn't aware there were any other SeeDs in the area,” said the captain, looking at Rinoa with a light frown. Rinoa glanced at Squall a little uncertainly and Squall's eyes tightened imperceptibly.

 

“Where did the Beast come from?” Laguna asked quickly. Immediately the captian refocused.

 

“Sir, we're not sure. There was no breach reported in the nearest tunnel and none of the sensors went off either. The XDI's been contacted and they'll be on-site to conduct a more thorough investigation once they're finished with the other sites.”

 

“The other sites?” Laguna repeated, a chill going through his chest.

 

“Yes, sir.” The large green lenses over his eyes glittered like compound lenses as he bowed his head, voice subdued. “There have been reports of multiple Beast incursions all over New Esthar.”

 

“WHAT!”

 

“How many?” Squall demanded as Rinoa clapped her hands over her mouth, horrified.

 

“Five at the last count. But they were coming fast and...” The captain took a deep breath. “Sir, all the incursions have been in residential areas.”

 

Laguna's stomach sank. It was nighttime now. People would be at home with their families. Nobody would be armed.

 

“Scramble the army at once—”

 

“Secretary Zabac already gave the order, sir.” The captain held his hand out. “We have to get you back to the Palace as soon as possible. It's not safe.”

 

“I can make a difference,” said Laguna sharply. “I just need a weapon—”

 

“Sir, that's a terrible idea. You haven't been in serious combat since the Succession Wars—”

 

“Not officially,” said Squall abruptly. “But he can make up the difference with junctions.”

 

“President Loire does not know how to use that technology,” said the captain somewhat stiffly. Laguna couldn't help but laugh.

 

“I actually do,” he said and looked at Squall. “Can you help me out?”

 

Squall nodded. He looked at Rinoa and said, “SeeD Yawarac, your spare weapon to the President.”

 

“Yes sir, Commander sir,” said Rinoa, her voice just barely professional enough to cover a nervous giggle, and out from behind her back she pulled out a rather large assault rifle that Laguna _knew_ hadn't been there before. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it was his own XBR-55, except that was locked up back at the Palace...

 

“ _Or is it? Maybe she pulled it here just for me. Come to think of it, I have no idea what all a sorceress can do...”_

 

“Sir, I am _not_ letting you go out onto the battlefield!” The captain exhorted as Squall and Rinoa came over. 

 

“And I'm not letting Estharian citizens get slaughtered while I can do something about it!” Laguna shot back.

 

“Sir, if you get hurt, the citizens' morale will—”

 

“What kind of President would I be if I didn't put my life on the line for the people I serve?” Laguna demanded as Rinoa handed him the gun (definitely his own; he knew the scratches around the barrel like a passage in a well-loved book) and Squall clasped his hand, sending the familiar warm rush of a Guardian Force and assorted para-magic rushing through his body. As his senses seemed to sharpen and his body fill up with strength that made him feel like he was in his twenties again, Laguna put the gun on his shoulder and said, “I'll be fine with the SeeDs, captain. Now I'm giving you a direct order, run recovery with the worst-hit area and stay there until you're tapped out. I know you're all flush with Curagas and stuff, so use them for the citizenry, okay?”

 

“Sir, our job is to protect you _.”_

 

“No. Your _duty_ is to protect _Esthar._ Now go.”

 

The captain was still and quiet for a moment. Laguna waited until the man at last exhaled and saluted before cracking an easy smile.

 

“Don't worry about me,” he couldn't help but say. “I'll be fine with Commander Leonhart and SeeD Yerawhack and I won't be out long. I know I'm no spring chicken. But you've got to be freed up to help people who really need it. Where's the next incursion located?”

 

The captain pulled up his armtop screen. “Two levels down, but the hovers are offline as per protocol...”

 

“I can do some advanced para-magic tricks,” said Rinoa, waving her hand a little. “We'll be fine.”

 

The captain gave her a semi-suspicious look but said nothing about it, instead choosing to activate his wingpack. As hard light blades like dragonfly wings popped out from his back, he said to Laguna, “Stay safe, sir. If you fell, Esthar would lose the best leader it ever had.”

 

“Aww, shucks,” said Laguna, laughing a little self-deprecatingly as the other members of the security team activated their wingpacks too—in New Esthar, sometimes the shortest distance between two areas was a fast drop or climb. “Don't swell my head before I gotta concentrate. Now get! I'll see you back at the Palace when this is all over. That's an order.”

 

The captain nodded and then barked “Move out!” to his waiting squad. Like a cloud of overlarge dragonflies they departed, disappearing through the thick plant curtains and leaving Laguna, Squall, and Rinoa alone in the center of the formerly peaceful park. Laguna waited until they had all left before turning to face the teenagers. They both looked impressed, Squall in particular, and Laguna tried not to preen.

 

“Well then, let's mosey,” he said, trying to sound confident instead, and deflated a little when Rinoa giggled and Squall's brows rose slightly.

 

“Let's,” said Squall, the corners of his mouth twitching a little. To Rinoa, he said, “Be careful. If anything you do doesn't look like para-magic—”

 

“I know, I've been practicing,” said Rinoa, and before Laguna's eyes her hair lightened to brown and her highlights turned red. As her eyes changed from dark brown to green, she said, “I panicked when you thought Laguna was going to die, but I've got it under control now.”

 

“When did you say that?” Laguna asked Squall, who turned a little red and looked away.

 

“He said in here,” said Rinoa, tapping Squall's chest and then her head. “And I heard it in here. Anyway, let's go! I can sense those Beast thingies and they're not around people yet, but they will be. Laguna, are you ready to fly?”

 

Laguna hesitated. He knew Rinoa, but Rinoa-with-power had seemed like an entirely different person until now. Some part of him couldn't shake the image of the glowing, glassy-eyed girl he'd first seen on the bridge of the lost Lunar Station. Did Rinoa really know what she was doing? And what she was holding? The ease with which she'd destroyed the Lunar Beast and seamlessly changed her appearance Laguna the chills, because what else might change so quickly...?

 

“ _Well heck, am_ I _the same person I was a year ago?_ ” asked a part of him that was always sensible, but not always listened to. _“Look at me with a Guardian Force and no instruction except what I kinda-sorta remember from Elle sticking Squall in my head. Meanwhile, Rinoa lives with her power all the time! Just because someone has power doesn't mean they're automatically something to be scared of.”_

 

“Only with you, sweetie,” he said to Rinoa, feeling a bit sheepish for his sudden stab of worry. This was _Rinoa._ First and foremost, she was Rinoa. Not Adel come again, not a vessel for ancient power, but a teenage girl whom his son loved for very good reasons, and whom Laguna was fond of as well. It would be fine.

 

Rinoa laughed, sounding very much like her mother once had, and white wings that  _looked_ like Floats flared at her shoulders and Squall's. Laguna felt something warm on his back and knew they'd appeared for him too. He had never been touched by sorceress power before and had always thought it would hurt, but Rinoa's magic felt like a warm hug. In that instant it was hard to remember that she shared lineage with Adel.

 

“I'll steer us,” said Rinoa, gesturing with one hand, and Laguna nearly yelled in shock as his feet left the ground. “And once we clean up those things, we'll move onto the next one.”

 

“I'll coordinate with SeeD,” said Squall, taking a little ear wire out of his pocket. “They'll give us locations and send support if they can. The faster we take care of this, the better.”

 

The urgency cooled some of the excitement in Laguna's blood. Fighting in residential areas... It was going to be just like the Succession Wars after getting rid of Adel all over again. It was small consolation that he was going to be fighting Beasts instead of other humans wanting to take advantage of Esthar, but there would still be civilian blood spilled before the day was done...

 

“ _No one would be down here without my orders and vision... Guess that's kind of a double-edged sword. I hope we can move fast enough to actually make a difference instead of just wishing we could. And I'm glad Elle is safe in the Palace, because Squall's running headlong into danger again..._

 

“ _Well, whatever. He's not running alone. Rinoa's here and I'm here too, and I'm not going to let him face anything like this without me again. We've had enough of that already.”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Action President Laguna!

 

So when Adel was booted off into space, she left a power vaccuum that her top brass and multiple resistance factions immediately tried to fill. In this universe, the Succession Wars for rule of Esthar were a big reason why Laguna didn't go back to Winhill since first he was trying to broker peace between his faction and some others, and then upon finding out Raine was dead and Ellone had been sent to new people (no one told him that 'new people' were an orphanage and not loving adoptive parents), he basically went “Screw it, I've lost everything, I'm staying here” and then unified Esthar. Over the years a lot of the ditziness has been knocked out of him, but not his innate nobility.

 

Also, I know in-game Laguna's weapon is called 'The Machine Gun', but there has to be more than just one model in the Galbadian army. So I stole a classification from HALO and we got the XBR-55.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	41. Chapter 41

“What's that?” Quistis asked, looking at a storefront resplendent with a shifting mosiac of cats. Seifer glanced up at the sign, which was in Estharian. Over the past few days, Quistis had found out that while Seifer didn't speak Estharian, he was better than he thought when it came to reading it.

 

“Cat cafe.”

 

“A what?”

 

Seifer gestured at the sizeable group of people waiting outside the building on benches, little teacups in their hands. “A lot of people lost their pets in the evacuation. So you got cat and dog and bird cafes for people to sit and pet the animals.”

 

“Oh. When you said 'cafe', I thought—”

 

Seifer snorted. “I'm sure _someone's_ thought of it, but things aren't that desperate yet. Besides, the pet cafe patrons would probably skin anyone who tried stealing and eating the animals. Look.”

 

Quistis looked. Several people were coming out of the cat cafe, lightly dusted with various textures of fur, and several people quickly set aside their cups to go in. As the door opened to admit them, Quistis caught a glimpse of a large, open room that was quite full of a large variety of cat furniture, cat toys, and of course, cats themselves.

 

“Did you see it?” Seifer asked as the door shut.

 

“See what?”

 

“The really big cat.”

 

“Where was it? Inside?”

 

“Yeah, it's—okay, look.” Seifer pointed as the door opened again, this time to let out a person with a tray and a big teapot with a very long spout. Quistis tracked Seifer's finger and saw him pointing at one of the most striking cats Quistis had ever seen: mostly light grey with darker grey legs and a grey face, and startling accents of white on its paws. It was indeed very large, though not quite dog-sized, and its eyes were a piercing shade of sapphire blue.

 

“That one,” said Seifer in great satisfaction as the door to the cafe closed and hid the cat from sight. “I'm taking that one with me when I get out of here.”

 

Quistis stared at him. “Why?”

 

“Because I'm gonna have a boat and every boat needs a cat. Matron had four on the Ship. They're great for pest control.”

 

“You know there are more effective means with less maintenance.”

 

“Nah. It's gotta be a cat. Do you remember Puddingcup?”

 

“Should I?”

 

“He was Matron's cat back at the old orphanage,” said Seifer, a somewhat distant gleam coming into his eyes. “Huge old thing. Really heavy, really strong, and really patient. You could literally sleep on him and he wouldn't care. He caught rats, you know. The really big ones that would creep into the nursery and bite the babies.”

 

“Rats don't bite babies.”

 

“When they're hungry enough, they will.” Seifer looked at Quistis strangely. “You really don't remember Puddingcup?”

 

Quistis straightened glasses she wasn't wearing. “I recall very little from my life before age ten, either because I don't care to or because it's just not there. If you want a cat because of one Matron used to have, that's all I need to know. I don't need to remember the cat itself.”

 

“Okay, don't bite my head off. You could have just said 'no'.”

 

“I wasn't biting your head off,” said Quistis, though she folded her arms with a puff of irritation anyway. “I was simply reminding you that I have some memory issues.”

 

“Well whose fault is that?”

 

Quistis looked at Seifer flatly. “I had no idea that junctioning GF's could cause memory loss, so for you to say it's my fault that I don't remember—”

 

“What? Oh, shit.” Seifer shook his head. “That's not what I meant at all. Who gave you those things in the first place?”

 

“Xu did.”

 

“Well, there you go.”

 

“On Cid's orders,” Quistis felt compelled to clarify, and Seifer just nodded. She rubbed her forehead. “Never mind. Why are we even bothering about this?”

 

“Beats me. You're the one who got all moody.”

 

“And you're being unnecessarily abrasive,” Quistis shot back, now nettled. “Honesty is one thing, but choosing the most deliberately offensive way to phrase something is another.”

 

“I'm not—” Seifer stopped himself, narrowing his eyes. Quistis waited for some sort of defensive rebuttal, but after a second he sighed and shook his head. “Fine. I'll try to watch it a bit better. But you should know by now I don't piss you off for the fun of it, so quit acting like I do.”

 

“Which is why I will do my best to be more patient and understanding, but I will never magically know everything you're thinking,” said Quistis, making Seifer huff and look away. “And if I've been moody, you've been mercurial too. Is there something you're not telling me?”

 

“I already told you the most important thing that's happened to me, so what could I possibly be holding back?”

 

“You didn't answer my question.”

 

Seifer looked away. He was wearing his Estharian garb again and Quistis could only see his eyes narrow and then abruptly flick off to the side. When she looked to see what had caught his focus, there was nothing she could pick out in the milling crowds inside the entertainment district. After a moment of silence Seifer reached out and took her hand. It was the deceptively still contemplation before something shocking, and Quistis felt her stomach tightening up before Seifer even said, “Let's go back. I don't want to be out anymore.”

 

Objections stirred against Quistis's lips. It seemed like every time they went out Seifer would suddenly change his mind and want to hole up in the boardinghouse, and reasons ranged from irresistible desire to sudden fits of guilt and self-loathing he never admitted to. She had been patient with him so far but she was getting tired of staying in when her last moments of freedom were ticking away. Quistis wondered how Seifer would react if she told him that she'd be back later after wandering her fill. This entertainment district was not as touristy as some of the others and intrigued Quistis with its promise of showing her how real Estharians lived and relaxed. More than once she had caught the distinctive, heavy smell of cannabis, which struck her as odd until she realized that a stoned populace was far less likely to cause trouble in a confined space than a drunken one. Her keen sense of smell picked out multiple strains too, making Quistis realized that there were more than just pet cafes in this area.

 

She opened her mouth to say something when a sour tang of something like vinegar seemed to prick her tongue. Curiously Quistis looked around and saw an Estharian in a plain white robe with no tabard go hurrying by. A salty smell that translated to her brain as 'fear' wafted in this person's wake like smoke but was just barely recognizable under the vinegar-like smell, which was both alien and familiar in a way that seemed to strike Quistis's core. It was much like when she had first read the hidden words inside the Blue Magic Tome...

 

“No,” Seifer muttered, making Quistis glance at him. He was distracted and shaking his head. “No. That's...”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I...” He snorted. “Okay, fine. I thought I smelled something.”

 

“Like vinegar?” Quistis ventured. Seifer looked at her sharply.

 

“More like ammonia but yeah... You smelled it too?”

 

“Yes. Somebody just walked by with something that smelled of it. But it was very strong and I don't think it was actually vinegar. It seemed... Strange, somehow.”

 

“Did it hurt when you breathed it?” Seifer asked, his eyes focusing intensely on hers.

 

“No. But whoever was carrying it was afraid.” Quistis frowned. “The vinegar smell, is it dangerous?”

 

“If it is what I think it is, yeah.” Seifer was quiet for a second. “Fuck. Let's check it out. Probably just being paranoid, but if we're wrong, we're going to have problems.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like someone releasing fucking miasma in New Esthar.”

 

“Why would someone do that?” Quistis asked, startled.

 

“You ever heard about the Tuam tragedy?” Seifer asked, making Quistis shake her head. “Worst mass killing in New Esthar to date. Some fucker gassed a bunch of kids to death and a lot of people were basically going 'Good job, more food for the rest of us'.”

 

“You think there would be a copycat criminal?” Quistis asked even as her skin crawled at the thought and her heart ached at the idea of more little casualties.

 

“All I know is that lately, way too many people keep talking about Tuam and population control in the same breath,” said Seifer with a scowl. “Miasma can kill you if you breathe enough of it, which is why the XDI keeps all the samples under security that makes D-District look like a garden shed. But the sample containers aren't that complicated to make. They're not even rare. If someone felt like it...”

 

“They could get their own samples.”

 

“Yeah. And you can fit a _lot_ of miasma into one regular-sized oxygen tank. Definitely enough to gas at least five people to slow, painful, coughing-up-your-organs death.”

 

That was unacceptable. Quistis took a deep breath, sorting the various scents, and nodded as she found the one she was looking for. It was the olfactory equivalent of neon yellow in a sea of beige and not at all difficult to follow. “This way. It's not far.”

 

There were just enough people around that the person carrying the maybe-miasma was out of sight, so Quistis tracked the smell and Seifer followed a breath behind. Silent, they nevertheless radiated a certain intensity that unconsciously made people back away even when they weren't directly in their path, and the casualness of those movements highlighted the nervous scurry of the person Quistis was tracking. She noticed the person turn down a narrow street, disappearing behind the corner of a building.

 

“What's over there?” Quistis asked Seifer.

 

“Storehouses.” Seifer took two longer steps to put himself even with her. “You got anything on you other than your wobbly sword?”

 

“No, but I can make up the difference with my skills.”

 

“I thought you said if you used those, you'll get scalier.”

 

“Better scales than dead, or dead civilians.” Through the long slits in the sides of her robe, Quistis put her hand on the hilt of her jian. She had never been the open- or constant-carry type even when she had been with SeeD full-time, but since meeting Asparion four days ago Quistis had become more wary about going around. She was fairly certain it was her self-consciousness and paranoia that had made the man seem more threatening than he probably was, but it was far better to be wrong and prepared, especially in this case. Apprehension thick with the potential of ready violence surrounded Seifer like a solid shield and that in turn put Quistis on edge. If one of the most powerful people she knew was acting like this, then the miasma was truly something to be feared.

 

“ _I just hope this goes better than the last time Seifer and I went on assignment together,”_ Quistis thought and immediately hated herself for thinking of disaster. Logically there was only one way things could get worse than losing her lover and partner to an evil sorceress, and after surviving so many missions at such a young age, Quistis was unfortunately well-versed in all the ways a teammate could die. Poison gas would be a new one. Maybe it would carry them both off and spare her the horror of outliving one more person she trusted.

 

“ _Or I could heal us both with skills I never had during all my time with SeeD in exchange for being a little less beautiful. It's an easy trade to make if it keeps us both alive.”_

 

There were fewer people down this street but no trace of where their quarry had gone except for the scent of miasma. Quistis led Seifer to a building that seemed sealed all the way around until Seifer nudged her and jerked his head up at a six-sided vent cover that was not perfectly flush to the wall. Scuff marks on the walls indicated someone's rubber soles just barely getting purchase on the way up, and though the hatch was unusually high, the smell of miasma was strong enough that Quistis knew this was how the person had gotten inside.

 

“How the fuck...?” Seifer looked at Quistis as she backed up. “What, you brought an extra rope or something?”

 

“You would have picked this up in your SeeD classes,” she said somewhat absently, crouching a little as she kept her eye on the hatch. Seifer's grunt of irritation was lost as she broke into a sprint, jumped at exactly the right moment, and managed to get exactly three steps up the wall before gravity won over friction. But it was enough for Quistis snag the edge of the hastily pulled-in hatch and pull it off, and a second run-and-jump let Quistis pull herself into the vent itself. It was a tight fit and made even more uncomfortable for the smell of the miasma now becoming oppressive in the small space.

 

“Yeah, I ain't fitting into that.”

 

“Then go around!” Quistis hissed, struggling to get all the way into the vent. Her hand hit something that felt like plastic and immediately Quistis pulled her hand back, her mind flaring with possibilities of minibombs and caltrops. Adjusting her sight for the dark, Quistis stared incredulously when she saw a scale in the side of the vent. She knew without further touching that it wasn't one of her own. Hers were diamond-shaped. This one was scalloped and more than that, had a definite green tinge.

 

“Quis—err, Scarlet! Get down, there's an easier way into the building.”

 

Quistis picked up the scale, tucked it into her cuff to investigate later, and eased herself out of the vent. When she landed back on the ground, her brows rose when she saw Seifer on the phone.

 

“Something weird at 492,” said Seifer to the person on the other end of the line. “Smelled like miasma. Yeah. Yeah. Okay.” He hung up and put the phone back into his pocket, bristling a little as Quistis arched a brow at him. “What?”

 

“Who was that?”

 

“Eos.” He started to walk then, so fast that it made his long robes snap the way his old coat used to. Quistis followed lightly as he said, “This is XDI security and supply. Not high-clearance, not super active, but Eos can unlock the building remotely.”

 

“Convenient...”

 

“I heard that. What?”

 

“Nothing. Just...” Quistis smiled a little lopsidedly. “You trust her.”

 

Seifer snorted. “I trust her to do her job, which means not letting miasma into New Esthar.”

 

“Mm.”

 

They reached a door with an indicator light that turned from red to green as they approached, and silently Quistis drew her jian and Seifer his knives as they neared. Since Seifer was familiar with the location, Quistis let him get in front of her and waited until he hand-signaled the approach: basic training still held despite everything that had gone on. As one unit they burst into the building as soon as the door slid open and Seifer swore as the lights within immediately turned on in response to their presence. From deeper within the building, there was a loud metallic clatter and a startled oath.

 

“You're backup,” said Seifer, making Quistis grimace a little but immediately go to the side of the room in preparation of an ambush. Though a part of her mind cringed, Quistis summoned the Behemoth's unshakeable will to release Mighty Guards over herself and Seifer, and as the layered spells settled on her like a familiar coat, Quistis almost thought she could feel the last scales on her back hardening. Fine. It was fine. Better than getting killed or seeing Seifer killed in front of her. She couldn't help but wonder if that last disastrous mission was on his mind too as he absently twirled his knives around his fingers in an irritatingly showy way. Nevertheless he moved to the door on the far side of the room, sidestepped the pressure plate, then reached out and tapped it with his foot. The door obligingly whooshed open.

 

And flame gushed out.

 

Quistis nearly gasped in shock, but the Mighty Guard pushed the flames off like a rock in a river. Seifer narrowed his eyes, waiting until the flames stopped, and then rushed in without so much as a signal. Quistis spared a split-second to huff in annoyance before closing the distance in a few strides, and as she neared the open doorway she heard a choked-off cry of pain that went straight to her heart. No random combatant could make a noise that would do that to her. With a deep breath Quistis felt all her senses expand and it was like she was suddenly four times her size and able to  _know_ that much more. Before she entered the room, two independent smells told her there were two living being beyond. The scent of vinegarlike miasma she'd originally tracked took on tones of acrid ammonia, burning capsacin, seared meat, and the bitter metallic tones unique to supeheated metal, and she could tell it was now free in the room from the way the notes shifted with every change in the currents of air. There was no smell of blood at the moment, but one of gunpowder. Quistis ducked as soon as she ran in and heard two shots going off at the same time she felt something red-hot whisk through her hair. She barely noticed the burning on top of her scalp as Quistis zeroed in on the unfamiliar person standing in front of her, one with a blue-eyed gaze that immediately said  _“I know you”_ on a level she had been dreading to encounter again. 

 

“What the...” The man blurted out, the point of his weapon dipping. In the red haze filling the room, the muzzle dropping flashed in the dim light. “Nobody said anything about backup! Jeez, you scared the crap out of—”

 

Cherry-red flames burst through the air, burning the miasma to nothing and making the enemy mage run away with a curse. Quistis looked at Seifer, who had one hand clapped over his nose and mouth and his other flinging fireballs the size of beach balls that curved midair to track the now sprinting mage. To Quistis's newly keened hearing, the sound of his breathing was wet and ragged. Blood seeped between the fingers of the hand he had over the lower half of his face and he seemed to be on his feet out of sheer spite.

 

Immediately Quistis whistled in a very particular way, and her lips and throat buzzed as a high trill and a higher melody eased out as carefully as pouring molten metal. Of all the monster skills Quistis had worked on refining, she was most proud of the modified White Wind, which she and Norg had developed to work on healing health and detoxifying status effects. But as soon as the white motes settled on Seifer, he gave her such a glare that it actually took her aback.

 

“Get yourself first!” He shouted, then looked at her closely. “What...?”

 

“Get him!” shouted the enemy mage from behind a pile of rather tall metal boxes, each of them marked with the letters 'XDI' and a corresponding set of symbols in Estharian. “No witnesses, remember?”

 

Well, wasn't _that_ interesting. Quistis shot Seifer a look she hoped he'd understand before feinting at his head with her jian. Seifer backed up immediately, at first his eyes widening with shock. But then a second later he spat out a mouthful of blood and fell on the floor, not coincidentally turning so he landed on his front. She hoped he was holding his breath.

 

“It's done,” she called to the enemy mage, who came out from behind the boxes with a heavy sigh of relief. She noticed that despite the miasma covering the ground, he had no mask and didn't appear to be in pain. Had Seifer been exaggerating the danger?

 

“ _Or could it be that blue mages aren't affected by the miasma? And if so, why?”_

 

“Get the doors on the south side,” said the enemy mage, taking what looked like a blue-green rock out of his pocket. “We don't have much time before the XDI comes through or worse, SeeD.”

 

Quistis nodded, moving decisively away from Seifer's body and hoping that her speed would subtly tip the enemy mage into action. Unfortunately he looked at Seifer, tsked, and took a deep breath. Quistis's skin prickled in foreboding as the air around the enemy mage heated.

 

“We don't have time for body disposal,” Quistis said sharply, and when the enemy mage looked at her with a frown, she said, “They'll think he died of miasma anyway.”

 

“Yeah... Okay.” Then the enemy mage looked at her, his eyes narrowing to blue slits. He was dressed like an Estharian, so all she could see of him were his eyes and the way his body subtly tensed the longer he looked at her. “Who _are_ you?”

 

Quistis was tempted to bluff, except Seifer was going to get hurt by air itself if she took too long and going along with a plan to release miasma into New Esthar was not worth whatever information _might_ be extracted. On the other hand, there would be lots of time to get information once the mage was captured.

 

“Don't you recognize me?” Quistis asked 'innocently', approaching the man. He leaned back a little but didn't seem totally suspicious yet, not off-kilter as he was.

 

“No...”

 

“Well, way to make a girl feel wanted,” Quistis said with an artificial pout, taking another few steps forward. Her internal alarms started playing her nerves like violin strings, reminding her that Seifer could only hold his breath for so long. Fortunately her gambit paid off and the enemy mage sputtered, never knowing that Quistis had excelled in Deception back in the Garden, as she had in all things.

 

“Wait, no, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry, it's just, you know—”

 

“I specifically asked to be placed with you,” she guessed randomly, and the enemy mage sputtered more. She had the impression that he was not very well-trained despite being maybe a few years older than she was. Interesting.

 

“Well shoot, Ephkesc didn't say anything about that—”

 

“It's okay,” she said sweetly, now closing the distance and putting her hand demurely on the enemy mage's arm. “I forgive you.”

 

“Oh, great,” said the enemy mage, or would have; the instant he relaxed, Quistis tightened her grip on his arm and socked him as hard as she could in the stomach. He dropped like a sack of wet cement, gun and his mysterious blue rock clattering to the ground, and Quistis kicked them away in the same instant she turned to blow another White Whistle at Seifer. As the healing motes settled and sank in, Seifer rolled over and shot jets of fire from both hands, burning the miasma away like fog under strong sunshine. The vinegar smell vanished immediately.

 

“That _sucked,”_ said Seifer flatly, scanning the area and throwing a few more roaring jets of fire. “Next time we make a plan, how about it _not_ end with me nearly getting killed?”

 

“As I recall, I was the one who suffered greater injury on our last mission,” said Quistis, her tone as mild as she could manage. To mollify Seifer and refocus them on the task at hand, she said, “Are you alright?”

 

“Oh sure, just got a couple of deep lungfuls of poison gas and then lie on the floor while my perfect girlfriend does all the work.”

 

Quistis blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing. Seifer had _never_ held their difference in skills against her and surely one instance of being saved instead of doing the saving shouldn't make him so sour. She stared at him as his irate retort faded to a grumble and then a silence that was thick with bitter emotion. Seifer threw a few more jets of fire that seemed to be showy rather than useful before exhaling hard and looking at her with dark, tired eyes.

 

“They're gonna love having you back.”

 

What the hell? Quistis's fingertips itched to pinch Seifer hard, preferably somewhere extra tender. Did he think a trite compliment was going to excuse the sheer rudeness of what he'd said earlier? Especially since they were already running on limited time before she had to go back to SeeD and... And...

 

Oh.

 

“ _Oh, you_ jerk. _Just say what you mean. Haven't you realized that_ I _know they won't let me go ever again too?”_

 

But as Quistis opened her mouth to say just that, there was a surge of motion out of the corner of her eye and she turned to see the mage she'd knocked out... Deform. Underneath his plain white robe, something swelled out of his back with irregular jerks and pops. Seifer stared too.

 

“What the hell—”

 

Increasing mass. Popping noises coming from the back. The green scale in the vent upstairs. All the pieces came together like bits of ore struck by lightning but Quistis still did not believe her eyes when a massive green snake that looked like an elder Anaconduar abruptly burst from where the man had used to be, shredding the white robe and hissing so loud that her ears rang. It turned and glared at her, the horned hood around its slender face fanning threateningly.

 

“ _Oh no,”_ thought Quistis, and then, _“This was not how I wanted to meet another blue sage.”_

 

Training made Quistis leap back as the Anaconduar (Manaconduar?) struck, and Seifer slung a dart of flame off his right-hand knife to hit the shifted sage just below the eye. The sage shrilled and whipped an overlong body around to hit Seifer in the chest, and as the young man went flying Quistis saw with horror that his chest was flayed down to the ribs—the Mighty Guard had faded quicker than she'd thought, and the Manaconduar was not only bigger than the normal monster, but had razor-edged scales too. Automatically Quistis reached for the mechanical familiarity of a Curaga spell and cursed aloud when she remembered she had neither junctions nor para-magic. When she tried to White Whistle, the Manaconduar spat a bullet of ominously dark saliva at her and Quistis managed to dodge with only the edge of her robe catching the spit. Instantly it began to eat away at the fabric and Quistis whipped off the garment before the acid could touch her, and foresight made her throw the robe directly into the Manaconduar's face. As it flung its head to and fro to get the half-melting robe off, Quistis White-Whistled at Seifer and saw that he was covered in flames. Panic gave way to relief as she saw him stand up, sans clothing on the upper half of his body. Any other time Quistis would have laughed or blushed, but all she saw now was that he was whole and as healing fires licked off his body, she cast another Mighty Guard over them both and this time concentrated on protection rather that just speed. As the layered spells took effect with flashes of blue and pink light, the Manaconduar flung the tatters of robe out of its eyes and looked from Quistis to Seifer and back again. There was no way to tell what it was thinking.

 

Abruptly it turned in a deadly whirlwind of green razor scales, but this time the Mighty Guards caught the would-be assault and held as firm as cement walls, making the Manaconduar jerk unsteadily as it coiled itself on the floor. It seemed nonplussed, but when Seifer lunged at it, it spat at him and forced him to dodge. Quistis rushed the Manaconduar and slashed, but her blade glanced off the razor-edged scales and nearly bounced back to hit her in the face. The impact made the Manaconduar look back at her, and its red and gold eyes seemed narrowed in consideration. It was definitely thinking.

 

Without warning Quistis found herself off the ground. With a whack of its tail, the Manaconduar had slung her like a lacrosse ball and threw her straight into Seifer, who barely had time to be startled before the Mighty Guards smashed into each other.

 

It was not like when two Protects hit each other. When that happened, the Protects would crash like two massive cymbals but otherwise hold firm, deafening the ones they were protecting as they maintained structural integrity. The Mighty Guards were far more comprehensive in what they protect against, but Quistis knew from experience battling alongside her friends that when her layered spells brushed against up each other, they squashed with the elasticity of balloons. The result of this was that Quistis crashed into Seifer, slowed down in midair, and then bounced backwards at high speed as a sound like a church bell being struck filled the air. She hit the ceiling and the wall before landing on the floor, dazed from the painless yet violent shaking inside her Mighty Guard ball. For his part, Seifer went flying back, immediately impacted a stacked pile of XDI crates, and then ricocheted to hit the near wall

at a sideways angle that jerked his neck and head uncomfortably hard. The Manaconduar then coiled around Seifer's Mighty Guard and a sound like steel grates scraping against each other penetrated the dazed fog covering Quistis's senses.

 

“ _It's trying to crush him,”_ she realized, pushing herself to her feet. _“It knew the Guards would bounce. It knows they're weakening. And when they give, Seifer's going to get pulped like a piece of fruit.”_

 

No monster would ever behave like this, but of course this was no mere monster. Quistis fired twin beams of her refined Laser Eye and made the Manaconduar shriek in a voice of a hundred kettles venting stem as she hit it in the top of the hood, approximately the base of the skull in a human. Whenever Norg had forced her out of a botched transformation, he had always gone for a hammer blow of a slap upside the head, but either the angle was wrong or the impact was not enough because while the Manaconduar thrashed, it did not transform back to human. It did, however, loosen its coils around Seifer and not a moment too soon as the Mighty Guard collapsed. Quistis heard Seifer yell something unintelligible but probably vulgar and she caught the acrid scent of blood as he stabbed the Manaconduar. Apparently he'd forgotten rule one of attacking monsters, and that was 'never stab'—a monster in pain will attempt to flee, and a person who stabbed a monster would likely find themselves dragged along as it tried to get away. Such was the case now. Quistis had exactly half a moment to roll her eyes before firing another Laser Gaze into the Manaconduar's chest. As it reeled in shock, Seifer managed to disengage with nothing worse than a few scrapes along his ribs.

 

Quistis looked around and swallowed as she realized that this space was totally unfavorable for combat. It was small on floorspace, which would allow the Manaconduar to dominate the area just by moving, and neither she nor Seifer had their best weapons. She could use blue magic to keep them both alive, but whether it was the adrenaline or her body still being more unstable than she thought, Quistis felt her blood seeming to buzz and boil and there was a weird rawness over her skin that let her know some sort of visible physical change was imminent. None of those things seemed good, especially if she lost control of her shape without meaning to. But that had never happened before, so Quistis put it out of mind. Seifer could probably kill the Manaconduar as long as Quistis kept the Guards up, but if she let them lapse for even a second then there would be no second opportunity to retreat or heal.

 

“ _I wish I had my whip. I could move just as fast as any snake if I had it, no matter how big or small the snake may be.”_

 

The Manaconduar seemed wary now, its eyes slitted and its hood narrowing down. Unfamiliar with the behavior of snakes, Quistis had no idea why the Manaconduar was settling down until a subtle bunching of muscle under its sharp hide made Quistis realize it was about to strike, but the Manaconduar did not face her or Seifer. Instead it shot forth like it had been launched from a bow, aiming for a hexagonal hole in the wall very close to the ceiling—of course. That was how it had gotten in. But before it could reach the safety of the ventilation shaft, it struck something invisible and hard with a thud that echoed throughout the ceiling, and as it dropped to the floor in a daze with a haze of ice on its muzzle, an irate female voice said, “You are  _sooo_ lucky I decided to come check on your stupid ass.”

 

“Don't do me any favors,” Seifer shot back.

 

“ _This must be Eos,”_ thought Quistis, turning to look at a woman standing in the doorway of the supply room. Though Seifer had mentioned that Eos looked very much like him, the strong jaw, the deep-set and determined eyes, and the particular expression of pissiness on Eos's face nearly made Quistis jump. She appeared to have come from a party if her prettily embellished tunic and pants were any indication, and she had a black sword with something glittering on the blade. 

 

“Who're you?” Eos demanded of Quistis.

 

“On your side.”

 

“That's a funny name,” quipped Eos, but raised her blade as the Manaconduar recovered. “Just make yourself useful while X and I take this down.”

 

“Take it prisoner,” Quistis said quickly, and when Eos looked at her incredulously Quistis said, “It's more than it seems. And it has information.”

 

“A monster has information,” said Eos flatly.

 

“It's not just any old monster,” said Seifer, his arms blossoming with flame. “It's a blue sage. A shapeshifter. And it's not working alone.”

 

“Yeah, I bet.” But Eos did not sound as disbelieving as her words implied. Instead she slashed at the air with her sword, which had abruptly gotten bigger, and streams of whitish energy hardened to thick ice around the Manaconduar's coiled-up body. It thrashed at once but too late to avoid getting pinned to the floor, and Seifer ran over its frozen body to get up to its head. Grabbing it at the juncture of its head and hood, Seifer aimed his knife at the beast's eye and here got the first proof it was more than monster: the Manaconduar went still immediately and there was something like fear in its lidless eye.

 

“Change back to a human or die an eyeless snake,” said Seifer in dreadful, serious tones.

 

The Manaconduar shuddered and then began to shrink. Critically Quistis noted that it took a long time to turn back to a human and that the effort seemed to exhaust the blue sage once he reappeared, naked and shivering and totally human. While he transformed, the ice around him shifted and shrunk in a silent and unnerving manner that nevertheless kept him contained, and Eos shook her head.

 

“I am way too high for this shit,” Quistis heard her mutter. Louder she said, “X, get one of the flora boxes open. Onyerside, you said there was information to be had. Get it.”

 

“ _Definitely related to Seifer,”_ Quistis thought wryly as she approached the enemy sage. Too late she realized her face was uncovered as the sage stared at her in shock. 

 

“Who the hell are you?” He exclaimed, apparently not recognizing one of the Legendary SeeDs who had brought down Sorceresses Edea and Adel. At first Quistis was startled but then remembered she hadn't been photographed, recorded, or seen in the past year. Small blessings for isolation. To further distract the man, Quistis mentally ran through everything she remembered of her interrogation courses and decided that the best way to establish authority and keep the man off-kilter was to scare him. That was accomplished by kneeling in front of the man and putting the edge of her jian against his pulse. 

 

“Tell me the plan,” she said, her voice as commanding as she could make it. “All of it.”

 

“You just saw it,” he said sourly, nevertheless leaning away from her blade as much as possible.

 

“I saw your part of it. But you implied there were others about. I want to know how many, where they are, and what the ultimate goal is.”

 

The man shut his mouth. He looked about in his early twenties, but had a certain well-fed quality to his face that implied a life of less-than-suffering. Quistis thought he'd come to this particular path late in life and probably had little to no training as she knew it. Despite being encased in ice, there was sweat around his hairline. He was nervous. And that would hopefully make him talkative.

 

“Tell me what I want to know now and save yourself some hurt later,” said Quistis, and was rewarded by a flare of shock and fear in the man's eyes. “With lives on the line, I don't particularly care about being gentle.”

 

“Do your worst,” bluffed the man. “It's not gonna matter. The wheels are already in motion.”

 

“If it doesn't matter, then tell me what I want to know,” said Quistis.

 

“I'm not a snitch.”

 

“Snitches live,” said Eos, and her voice was so much like Seifer's that Quistis almost had to turn to see who'd actually spoken.

 

“Not long after snitching,” the man retorted.

 

“Fine. Keep your mouth shut and we'll find out what we can in an autopsy,” said Seifer himself, his voice echoing ominously from somewhere further inside the storage facility. “You said the wheels are already turning. If we can't get anything useful out of keeping you alive, then why bother?”

 

“Like you'd dare!” The man blustered as Quistis tested the angle of the jian against his neck. “People'd come looking for me!”

 

“What sort of people?” Eos asked, her voice sharp.

 

“Dangerous ones!”

 

“Not more dangerous than we are,” said Seifer, coming back around the corner with a tall obelisk-like box that looked like a clear version of Lunatic Pandora. “And let me tell you a little something, too. They sent you here without backup, which means they didn't care if you made it out alive. I don't think anyone's going to come looking for you at all.”

 

The man's eyes bugged. “No... No, they said it was because I could handle it...”

 

“Except here you are, found and trapped, no weapons, no backup, and nobody here who gives a shit about whether you live or die.” Seifer leaned against the box, arms folded and one foot up in a very casual posture. “Scarlet, you should just whack him already. We've got better things to do.”

 

“Not so fast, X,” said Quistis, remembering what Eos had called him earlier. “I still think he has information... But you're right in that we don't have time. I suppose all we truly need is a hand to take fingerprints off of.”

 

“What?” The man exclaimed, eyes widening. Seifer, however, had been trained the same as Quistis and knew where she was going with the sudden threat.

 

“Nah, take his head,” said Seifer with ghoulish amusement. “People can burn off fingerprints, but it's way more expensive to replace all your teeth. Dental's the way you go for surefire identification.”

 

The man, now sweating bullets, looked at Eos. “You can't do this! You work for the government! There's rules!”

 

“ _I_ work for the government,” said Eos, resting the point of her sword on the ground. “Which means I can say you resisted, and my poor threatened consultants had no choice but to defend themselves with lethal force. And afterward, we just took your hand or your head to do what we could.”

 

“You can't say that!”

 

“Well, it's not like you'd be around to argue with me,” said Eos, a mirror of Seifer's ghoulish amusement in her voice.

 

“But there's survei...” The man fell silent with horror and Eos just smiled.

 

“Yeah. Normally there _would_ be surveillance holding up your end of the story, but you disabled all of it before coming in, didn't you? That's actually why I'm here; I couldn't remote in to any of the usual feeds. So... Hoisted on your own petard, aintcha?”

 

“I apologize in advance,” said Quistis, holding her jian so the man could see it. “This isn't made to cut through bone. I'll have to bleed you out first and then find something else to decapitate you.”

 

“No!”

 

“Normally I'd ask you to hold still, but it's not like you can move very much. Just relax.”

 

“Stop! Stop!” shrilled the man as Quistis started testing angles on his neck. “I'll talk! Just stop it!”

 

“What were you doing in here?” Eos asked, her voice now all business.

 

“I was supposed to release and transmute the miasma!”

 

“Transmute?” Eos and Seifer repeated. Quistis's skin prickled as something she'd encountered in the Blue Magic Tome and Scholar's notes seemed to awaken her brain.

 

“Transmute it into what?” Quistis asked, half-anticipating and half-dreading the answer.

 

“A Lunar Beast!”

 

“Wait, _what?”_ Eos exploded.

 

“How was this to be accomplished?” Quistis asked urgently. “What sort of device were you going to use?”

 

Confusion covered the man's face. “Device...? What are you talking about? You don't need a device to transmute miasma! You just need the right song and a regular old Ocarina! What the hell kind of—”

 

“How many of you are there?” Seifer broke in, apparently impatient with this line of questioning.

 

“Twelve! Twelve of us got orders!”

 

“Is that including Ephkesc?” Quistis asked, remembering the name he'd tossed out earlier.

 

“No! Ephkesc just told us what to do.”

 

“Is he the leader?”

 

“No, and I have no idea who the boss is!”

 

“Where can we find Ephkesc?”

 

“On a train going the fuck out of here, like the rest of us are supposed to be!”

 

“Then why did you turn into a snake?” Seifer asked, eyes narrowing.

 

“Because that was plan B!” He was sweating like crazy now. “None of us were supposed to get caught no matter what!”

 

Quistis broke in again. “So the idea was to transmute the miasma, release a Lunar Beast into a populated area, and then run away with no one the wiser?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“Why?”

 

“I don't know!” The man shrieked as Quistis ran her jian ever so lightly along his neck. “I swear! I swear I don't know anything else!”

 

“Do you know where the others are?”

 

“No, but we were all supposed to release at the same time. I _told_ you, it's too late to do anything.”

 

“What was your reward for doing all this?”

 

“Paradise.”

 

Quistis and Seifer frowned, confused. Eos scowled and Quistis heard a trace of something crackling and tinny as Eos tapped her ear. Her eyes turned into even narrower grey-purple slits, and eventually she huffed.

 

“Stick him in the flora box,” said Eos to Seifer. “We'll come back for him later.”

 

“We're leaving him?”

 

“We got no choice.” Eos dismissed the ice with a slash of her sword, picked up the now-trembling man, and threw him into the tall clear box that Seifer had brought around. As the door on the box slid shut with a hiss and a click, she typed a sequence into a well-hidden keyboard on one of the box's seams and said, “He wasn't lying. We've got multiple incursions of Lunar Beasts and the casualties are nearing one hundred already. Miss Scarlet, I assume you're in the same business as X here?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Eos looked at Quistis closely and sharply enough to make Quistis a little nervous. “Who are you to him? New girlfriend, maybe?”

 

New? Quistis folded her arms, annoyed both by the query and the timing of it. “That's none of your business. All you need to know is that I'm just as capable a fighter as he is.”

 

“Yeah? You got elemental lore?”

 

“No, but I can heal and throw defense.”

 

Eos looked at her more keenly. “Yeah? Para-magic? Maybe a Gua—”

 

“Blue magic,” said Quistis quickly, trying not to sound like she was deliberately cutting off Eos's train of thought. As a Legendary SeeD, Quistis was known for the skills she had attained in the Garden more than the ones she had merely been born with, and nearly all of her training in blue magic over the past year had been secret. It was the only slim chance she had at maintaining her cover while still securing an image of combat competence.

 

“Blue magic...” said Eos, rolling the words in her mouth like she could chew meaning out of them. Her eyes were still unsettlingly hard, and now that they were standing still with nothing to do, Quistis could smell the smoky, vaguely medicinal scent of cannabis hanging around Eos in a dense cloud. The older woman tapped her fingertips on her sword in a rhythm that seemed to have the cadence of a song.

 

Without warning she slashed at Quistis, and only the fact that she was already on edge let Quistis dodge fast enough to avoid the great scythes of ice that came sheeting through the air at her. Seifer bellowed in outrage and immediately charged Eos. Quistis refreshed her Mighty Guard and kept her hand on her jian, but did not otherwise move as Seifer put himself directly between her and Eos.

 

“What the _fuck,_ Eos?”

 

“Too much of a coincidence,” said Eos, just tall enough that she could lean out a little and glare over Seifer's shoulder. “Lunar Beasts in New Esthar, a shapeshifter who can summon monsters out of miasma, and someone who uses monster skills and looks half-monster herself... All in one place. She knows more than she's letting on. She could even be working with these people.”

 

“No she's not,” said Seifer forcefully, taking a step to block Eos from targeting Quistis again. “Did you already forget what she was going to do to that other guy?”

 

“Psst,” whispered the man in the obelisk, his voice seeming to split into two tones as it reached Quistis's ears. He was on the other side of the room, fully contained within the box but apparently recovered enough from his fright to try some planning. “Hey. Get me out of here.”

 

Quistis subtly shook her head. Light glimmered just beyond the field of her vision and Quistis glanced down at her hand. Her skin went cold except for the parts of it that were now scaly again, rougher and more irregular than they'd been before. She resisted the urge to hide her hand behind her back or start looking to see how bad the damage was all over.

 

“Get me out or they're going to kill us both to be on the safe side! We can both run away.”

 

“They could be playacting,” said Eos to Seifer. “It's just too much of a coincidence, X. Don't say you don't see it.”

 

“There's nothing to see,” said Seifer forcefully. “I've known her for years and far better than you could ever imagine. She wouldn't be involved in a mass terror attack when kids' lives are on the line.”

 

“Just because you fuck someone doesn't mean you know them.” Eos jerked her chin at Quistis, so very much like Seifer in that instant that despite knowing Eos was someone else, Quistis still felt something in her chest jump. “You've never talked about her. And you've never taken time off before she came around either, which I'm guessing means that you two do the long-distance thing. What does she do when you're not around?”

 

“Study!” Seifer bellowed, a vein starting to pulse on his forehead. There was a slightly hysterical note in his voice that made Quistis look at him in alarm. “She studies and practices blue magic!”

 

“With who?” Eos shot back. “And for how long? You have to admit that maybe you don't know her as well as you think you do, and—”

 

“You don't know shit about her! You're just making up lies—”

 

“I have to protect my people! I have to assume the worst! And I don't care about your hurt feelings enough to let them stop me from doing what I have to do!”

 

Eos raised her sword and Seifer knocked it away with a furious slash of one fire-edged knife. Eos glared at him with eyes that seemed more than capable of shooting laser beams.

 

“Do that again and I'll put you down,” she said in a voice silky soft with menace and perfectly serious intent. “I like you, X. You're like the little brother I never had. But if you cross me _one more time—_ ”

 

“I am not letting you take her,” Seifer said back in the same tone, and Quistis saw them bristling like a matched pair of golden-colored cats. “She's done nothing wrong. She can be useful. And most importantly she's not Estharian, which means you got no authority over her.”

 

“For anything related to Lunar Beasts, the XDI gets priority. Which means I do whatever I need to protect Esthar.”

 

Quistis almost saw what would happen next. Eos would charge, Seifer would defend, and whether or not there was a physical fight or who won it, their relationship would be irreparably damaged. The most solid tie Seifer had to his birth family and the life he had built here would all be gone. Her throat locked up at the thought of Seifer losing something else and all because he wanted to keep _her._

 

“ _There's no guarantee that Seifer and I will love each other forever, but family... Real blood family... God, they look so alike. He belongs here, or at least he should. I can't let him throw everything away like this. If nothing else, he might grow to resent me...”_

 

Quistis opened her mouth to say something, but the words were lost in a sudden deafening blare of alarms that made everyone automatically drop into a ready crouch, even the man inside the box. Eos looked up, scowled, and then looked at Quistis.

 

“You still wanna be useful?”

 

Quistis nodded cautiously.

 

“Then you run with me and X until this state of emergency is over. I'll make my decision after seeing you in the field.”

 

“ _More like you want to keep me close to see if I do anything suspicious,”_ thought Quistis, straightening. She saw the same thought glittering furiously through Seifer's eyes, but Quistis thought Eos had made the best decision in these circumstances. The safest thing from her viewpoint would be to shut Quistis away, but Seifer would obviously lose it and Eos would lose time and energy taking him out of play one way or another. Meanwhile, if Quistis was a double agent of some sort, Eos would already be on her guard. 

 

Eos went for a storage locker at the side of the building, scanned her eye, and opened it up to take out several packages. One was like a backpack with four ports on it, while the other two were circular with plain-looking harnesses on them. Tossing the two to Seifer and Quistis, she told them to put them on between conferring with people talking through an implanted ear mic and putting on the backpack. As Quistis put her device on, she looked at Seifer questioningly.

 

“Don't look at me,” he said, putting his on at the same time. “But she's pissed, so brace yourself.”

 

“And you?”

 

He flashed her a toothy grin. “Oh I'm pissed too, but not at you.”

 

And then just to prove it (or more likely, to annoy Eos) he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. The shock of the timing made Quistis push him off, but he just smirked and tightened the straps on his harness.

 

“Stupid supply room doesn't have masks, only filters,” said Eos, opening another locker and taking out what looked like tubes of lipstick with mesh along one side and a bite guard on the other. Tossing one to Seifer and Quistis each, she said, “Breathe through your mouth _only_. If you have to be in the miasma, try to squint as much as possible. You got about ten minutes in solid-red and twenty in half-haze before you start courting blindness. Follow me.”

 

Once outside, Eos activated her backpack and as four greenish jets like dragonfly wings sprang from the ports on her back, Quistis jumped as bright lines of pure energy shot painlessly from her harness and Seifer's to Eos's. She got a premonition of something awful before Eos jumped lightly into the air and  _kept on going,_ and Seifer swore explosively as his feet left the ground. In the blink of an eye they were airborne. 

 

“Don't struggle!” Eos bellowed as Seifer started thrashing. “You'll throw us all off and we'll end up flying into a building or something. The next incursion is four levels up. We're going through the tubes.”

 

“The _hover_ tubes?!” From anyone else, this would have been a screech. Seifer managed to sound just barely in control of the situation, but that might have been because of the low timbre of his voice. 

 

“At your freaking ease, it's the only choice we have. The hovers are down in emergencies.” Eos turned left and Quistis clamped down on her scream of shock as _she_ kept moving in the direction they'd just taken. Fortunately inertia and velocity put her back behind Eos before she ended up smashing into Seifer, who was no longer thrashing but was now radiating furious unhappiness. Quistis looked at him a bit more closely. He was sweating. Good god, Seifer was nervous. Quistis tried to reach out to take his hand before noticing that he had a death grip on his knives and was staring straight ahead with a slightly wild-eyed expression. She decided to comfort him when they landed. 

 

A deep purple tube for mass transit was nearby, running through the level like an air deposit tube for trucks, and while Quistis had taken hovers through these before, there was a world of difference between sitting inside an encolsed space in a comfortable chair with a little flutter of weightlessness and now, tethered with nothing but light with a high woman at the helm. Eos steered them in and went into a sharp climb that made all of Quistis's organs seemingly flatten into her hipbones. Normally not afraid of speed or altitude, Quistis still shut her eyes as the wind rushed past sickeningly fast. A part of her bristled and wanted to grab onto something, anything, and hold on until she could understand her surroundings, and the raw feeling Quistis had noticed earlier shivered down her skin in a warm prickle that meant fur was growing.

 

“ _Oh no,”_ thought Quistis in dread as she felt her skin surge and her bones start to shift in her legs and spine. She focused immediately on holding onto her fear and keeping her human shape, which successfully distracted her until Eos abruptly leveled out and jerked Seifer and Quistis horizontal with the motion. Quistis was peripherally aware of Seifer gagging as they burst back out into the light. The sound of Ifrit snarling in the distance brought Quistis back to the present, and when Eos landed in sight of two SeeD teams and three squads of army fighting what looked like an impossibly big spider with armored legs, Quistis landed on the ground ready to fight. The energy tethers snapped off and Eos sized up the situation.

 

“Good, they got it for now,” she said to no one in particular. Then she turned and vomited all over the ground. Quistis blinked, stunned, as Eos spat and straightened. “I fucking hate flying.”

 

Quistis glanced at Seifer then. He was digging his thumbnail into a spot about two inches below his wrist, which every SeeD was taught early on to do to treat nausea. He looked pale and his eyes seemed very bright, but he otherwise looked fine.

 

“Okay, looks like a Megarach,” said Eos, drawing her sword. Quistis was impressed at her ability to compartmentalize and bounce back. “No blind spots, spits acid ropes, and fast as fuck. Weak points are the joints. X, you got all the ones on the thing's left. I'm taking all the ones on the right. You... Scarlet, right? You got anything long-range?”

 

“Yes...”

 

“Then clean up what we miss,” said Eos, raising her sword.

 

“I'm not gonna hit it from this range,” said Seifer to Eos, who looked at him like he'd abruptly gone stupid.

 

“Then get closer.”

 

“Oh, I'm _allowed to_ now?”

 

“When this is done, I'm gonna spank your behind until it looks like a Hedgehog Pie. GO!” Eos shouted the last word as she swung her sword, and a shard of ice about six feet long and green-white like the heart of a glacier shot off the apex of her swing, shooting straight for one of the Megarach's leg joints. She swore as the missile missed, but the Beast lurched anyway, a Hellfire orb smoldering on its back and Ifrit joining the impact a second later. With a roar it set claws into the juncture of the megarach's leg and body and at once the smell of vinegar filled the air as Ifrit bodily ripped the leg off. Quistis's brows shot up in shock.

 

“Shit,” Seifer exclaimed softly.

 

“Ah, looks like they sent someone with decent compatibility,” said Eos. “Must've been partnered with that Guardian Force for a while.”

 

As the wound vented miasma, Ifrit belched a gout of fire that burned the red mist to dust and then started flickering like a guttering candle. A second later there was a SeeD standing on the Megarach's back, a shortsleeved field uniform highlighting the musculature of his impressive arms and armored plates flashing off his reinforced boots. Even with a black filter mask covering the lower half of his face, Quistis knew immediately who the martial artist on the monster's back was. She had seen him fight too many times to mistake the silhouette of his body for anyone else's.

 

“ _Of_ course _it would have to be Zell!”_ screamed a part of her, while another part noted, _“He did always get along with Ifrit.”_

 

She couldn't help but glance at Seifer, who was dashing forward. This could be very, very bad. No SeeD would recognize him immediately, but Zell had picked up on who he was in Deling City. He'd likely do it again. And Zell was not quiet when surprised.

 

“ _How do I keep these two apart? And how do I keep Zell from blowing our cover if he spots me? I've got less than the length of a city block to figure it out, or everything is going to end after this battle one way or another...”_

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I have a lot of fun writing battle scenes.

 

I headcanon that Seifer is not very comfortable when his feet are not on solid ground. He likes to be able to move exactly as he wants, so flying freaks him out and things like ice skating, roller blading, and T-boarding are not things he does well at all. And because he's not good at them, he furiously and loudly decides they are worthless.

 

Finally got a buffer up again. Next update in about a week or so.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	42. Chapter 42

To: Dincht, Maryanne

From: Dincht, Zell

 

Dear Ma and Pa,

 

How are you? I am

 

-

 

Zell twisted his mouth and drummed his fingertips on the desk. He hooked his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard through his nose. He sat forward, making the chair straighten with an explosive snap, and finally surged out of it to pace around his room in the Estharian SeeD outpost. After a month here, it was finally starting to feel more like a home rather than an assignment: he'd gotten a couple of books to read in his downtime, a couple of nifty posters for the walls, and a splurge purchase of non-regulation bedding that made him fall asleep really fast and really deep. He needed the rest. It was no small wonder that the Lunar Beast teams got burned out, because day after day of horror-movie-like combat conditions were enough to wear anyone down. So far no one had died while Zell had been out with them, but the memorial wall in the outpost always seemed to have a couple of freshly etched names on it. Every time Zell passed the wall, he was uncomfortably reminded of how short life could be and kept thinking he should write his parents, except...

 

“ _Damn it, it was all so weird when I left. What do I say?_ Hey, how are you? Got your heads out of your butts about me being adopted yet? No? Guess I'm staying here, then!”

 

That wasn't _exactly_ it, but it was close enough. Ever since finding out he'd been adopted, Zell had realized rather abruptly that his parents were far from perfect. His entire life (that he could clearly recall, anyway), they hadn't told him even once that he _was_ adopted. According to them, he'd been terrified of being abandoned right after they'd brought him home so they'd kept telling him he was their 'real boy'. Fine. What Zell couldn't understand now was how they seemed determined to erase his adopted status by refusing to talk about it at all, and the more they insisted that his life before them didn't matter, the more irritated Zell got until he just couldn't handle being around them anymore. For fuck's sake, it was _his_ life that was in pieces but they acted like they were the victims! Yes, it was sad that Ma hadn't been able to have a child of their own. Yes, it was sad that most adoption agencies had turned Ma and Pa down for being too old and not rich enough. And yes, it was sad that some of the neighborhood kids had teased him so much about being “leftovers” that Ma and Pa had decided to send him to the Garden since the majority of kids were orphans there too, but that _still_ didn't give them the right to decide what Zell got to know about his own life!

 

He'd said as much, but they either didn't understand or just didn't want to admit they were wrong. Pa just didn't talk to him anymore, though somewhat bitterly Zell told himself that it wasn't much different than usual: Pa was gone half the year anyway on his fishing boat, so not talking to him for months at a time was the norm. Ma, however, got smothery. Since the adoption thing had come out, she'd taken to visiting every week like he was ten again and not only that, but bringing homemade food and following him around like she was afraid he'd run away unless she was there. It got to be so bad that Zell started _hiding_ from Ma when she came to visit, and once he realized that her weekly visits were making him angry, Zell knew it was time for a change. A big one.

 

Needing some space to breathe had been one of the major reasons he'd asked for a transfer to Esthar. At the time he'd thought it would be a good thing for him and his family to have some real cooling-off time, but Zell had not been more wrong. After months of silence, Pa had called from the boat just to yell at him, Ma had cried until she'd nearly gotten sick, and worst of all, the entire neighborhood was split between “Zell's a young man and it's time for him to find himself” and “How could he move so far away? What if his folks need him?” GAHHH. Almost nobody asked what Zell wanted, but then again, the only people who seemed to care about that were people who were in the same boat. However, Zell didn't want to cut off ties with his folks completely like some other angry, disillusioned Garden wards had suggested. He just wanted his family back... Every piece of it.

 

The email wasn't happening. Zell shut the window, the computer, and then threw himself onto the bed to reread a beloved book to calm his mind. Whoever had checked out the last Pupurun book in Balamb Garden _still_ hadn't turned it back in, so he'd just bought the omnibus edition and was going through it for the seventh time. There was something so calming about little Pupurun traveling through the stars...

 

“Attention. All active SeeDs, report for duty in the atrium. Repeat, all active SeeDs are to report. Arm for heavy urban combat. This is an emergency. Report to the atrium.”

 

“Ahh, crap,” Zell muttered, rolling off his bed to grab his gloves and his junction belt off his work desk. As soon as he touched the latter, Tonberry, Cactuar, and Ifrit 'woke up' and he felt them stirring with interest as they became aware of the alarm siren. Zell felt a bit bad for GFs, honestly. Once partnered, they were effectively blind, deaf, and unable to feel when they weren't junctioned to him, and since these particular GFs seemed to prefer memories of procedures and mundane things, Zell only forgot stuff like how to fill out certain forms and what certain words were—for example, 'hand shoes' instead of 'gloves' and 'naked snail' instead of 'slug'. It was kind of embarrassing, but funny enough to offset the loss and it wasn't like he couldn't re-learn a word. And the power rush more than made up for it, though it took Zell longer than he liked to rearrange his junctions for maximum damage without property destruction. By the time he got everything slotted where he wanted, he was in the atrium and someone was passing out masks, the half-face version preferred by SeeDs since moderate vitality junctions protected their eyes from the corrosive miasma. Despite covering only half of one's head, the masks still had extremely vigorous air filtration systems, a particular must in Zell's case since his combat form was so up close and personal.

 

Because of the demographics in the outpost, it was easy for each three-person team to have a Balamb, Galbadian, and Trabian representative, and since he had an Instructor license, Zell was a default squad leader in all emergency situations. Today his partners were a G-SeeD (she had an axe) and a T-SeeD who was carrying a rifle. Good. By default, Balamb Garden SeeDs were the magic users in the typical 3-unit group, but Zell operated a little differently.

 

“You two cover me while I get close with the Beasts,” he told them, and saw their brows shoot up. He headed off their objections before they could even think them. “Yeah, I'm martial arts, but I've fought Beasts before and I'm fine without body armor. Yes, I'll have a mask. Yes, I'll be summoning. It takes me about three seconds to recover from summon-shock.”

 

“Only three?” The Trabian SeeD exclaimed, losing his lazy expression.

 

“My compatibility with Ifrit's in the high 90's,” said Zell, making the Trabian SeeD boggle. To the Galbadian SeeD, Zell said, “My other two GFs are Cactuar and Tonberry, and they're both in the mid-70's. That means it'll take me about fifteen seconds to fully recover after pulling them out.”

 

“What happens if you have 100?” The Galbadian SeeD asked curiously. The Galbadian SeeDs tended to be of two minds about GF usage; either they thought GFs were a crutch and a cheat or they were just too dangerous to use. But that didn't stop a general curiosity, especially once they saw how B-SeeDs performed in the field.

 

“One second or less to recover,” said Zell. “But that's rare. Most people don't have their GFs on long enough to build it up to 100.”

 

“Is it because of the memory loss thing?”

 

“Nah, it's because of the peanut gallery thing,” said Zell, tapping his head. “I can hear them giggling at me. Or muttering. It's kind of like hearing people talk behind your back, but when you turn around, there's nothing there. Gets old, you know?”

 

The SeeDs nodded in perfect understanding. After spending sometimes weeks in the field in various levels of danger, the last thing anybody wanted during their downtime was another reason to keep checking behind them.

 

There was a general rippling over the crowd of assembled SeeDs as the outpost leader called attention. Zell tried not to wince at the sight of the man. Alton Brenner had once been handsome, but the destruction of Trabia Garden had blown off the right half of his face and reconstructive surgery could only do so much.

 

“Ten attacks reported so far,” said Alton, gesturing at the holoscreen at the back of the atrium. A hologram of New Esthar appeared, looking like a big drip of candle wax divided into horizontal layers of varying heights. Several of these layers were red. “These are the affected areas. We have 22 teams, so that's two teams for each area except these two. Marlburn and Dincht, you're the odd ones out. Go with the teams assigned to Levels 1 and 7 to deal with the Level 3 Beasts reported there.”

 

Zell nodded, privately shocked. Since coming to Esthar he had rotated into the Beast extermination crews with everyone else, and there was a vast jump in terms of strength and durability between each level of Lunar Beast. 1's were things like Red Hornets and Nastirats, which were relatively small and fragile. 2's were things like Bloody Widows and Mandragoras, which were huge, fast, and had terrible reach. Level 3's were huge, fast, had terrible reach, **and** were often very hard to damage either because of very thick armor or extreme magic defense. So far Zell had been fighting Level 2's with a smattering of 3's, and the 3's had been rough. Though some of that had been due to teamwork. It had come to Zell after a couple of battles that he was still very used to fighting alongside a very particular set of 5 friends and he still reacted like they were there, which left holes in his defense and made some offensive attacks very uneven. It also made him a little lonely.

 

“ _Hey, Squall and Rinoa are around. I wonder if—”_

 

“Dincht.”

 

“Yes sir, Officer Brenner?”

 

“The Commander will rendezvous with your team at this point,” said Alton, pointing at Level 7. “He's bringing SeeD Yawarac from the White SeeD Ship and the President.”

 

“The Comma—Wait, the _President?_ ” Zell repeated, boggling. “Of what?”

 

“Of Esthar,” said Alton, a smirk lifting his twisted mouth as Zell's shocked screech echoed around the atrium. “I'm sure I don't have to tell you that President Loire is our most lucrative employer and the entire reason we're here. Make sure he gets back to the Presidential Palace in one piece.”

 

“ _Not to mention he's Squall's dad,”_ thought Zell, though that wasn't official information: it would make SeeD's exclusive contract with Esthar rather awkward if their relationship was widely known. Personally Zell was not sure why more people didn't connect the dots. They looked very similar to each other side by side, though Squall still had the best case of resting bitch face that Zell had ever seen on a man and Laguna just smiled all the time. In any case, Squall cared about Laguna more than he'd ever admit and if Zell let the man get hurt, Squall would give him some sort of hell. No thanks!

 

There was something else too. White SeeDs did not run on Garden missions and as far as Zell knew, the White SeeD Ship was nowhere near Esthar. So who was SeeD Yawarac? Fortunately Zell had always like puzzles so the answer was pretty obvious, but it was not like having Rinoa in the field made anything better. Zell started sweating a little as he realized how complicated his life was going to become.

 

The SeeD outpost was located on level 10. With the hover tunnels clear of everything but emergency vehicles, it was easy for the SeeDs to deploy without issue. Zell jiggled impatiently on the hover ride to Level 7, trying to keep his mind focused on battle and minimizing potential damage. Lunar Beasts, like terrestrial monsters, found human flesh absolutely delicious and whatever Beast they had to fight against would be zeroing in on the civilian shelters. Every floor had one. The idea was that in case of Lunar Beast invasion, it was best to provide multiple targets to minimize loss rather than one huge human surge, as evidenced during the initial evacuation when probably 75,000 people had died when the Beasts had first broken through the wall. Tightly packed together, most of them had been killed in the first two hours. Zell had read the reports, but realizing that he might witness a possible repeat today made his organs turn to ice. Killing people and losing people in the field was one thing, but a wholesale slaughter...

 

“ _I had nightmares about my field test for_ months. _Dead bodies all over the place, knowing they could be mine... Or seeing older folks and thinking they could be my parents. And then thinking about all the new orphans made that day, either because of Galbadia or Dollet soldiers defending themselves... Or us, just trying to get a gold star on a grade. Man! I don't want to go through that again. I don't!”_

 

Thank God for killing monsters.

 

Once they landed at Level 7, it was easy to locate the battle. The shriek of hard-light and laser carbines sliced through the air, along with the mundane sounds of machine gun fire and the magical blasts, booms, and crackles unique to magic. The battle was also easy to find because Level 7 was one of New Esthar's tallest and the Lunar Beast was about a fifth of its height. Zell boggled. Only one creature recorded could be that huge. He had read about Megarachs from previous field reports, but his mind reeled from just how big it had to be to be visible from across the level. He had never fought anything so large before. Where would you even start? If you knocked the legs out, it would fall on something. And trying to hit a body that was so far away would require specialized spells, rifles or bows, or aerial weaponry. And the field reports hadn't been very helpful since they'd mostly consisted of “Managed to distract the thing and get away”. Obviously that was not an option here.

 

“Alright, let's go,” he told his teams; as the ranking SeeD and an Instructor, he had control of the eight other SeeDs in the area. “First, we'll join up with the Commander. Second, we take the Megarach down. Buffs along on the way. What?”

 

One of the SeeDs lowered his hand. Zell vaguely recognized him as someone new who had just transferred in. “Uhhh... How _do_ we take down the Megarach?”

 

“As fast as possible,” said Zell, which he knew wasn't a real answer but truly was the only one he could give. “Let's move!”

 

They went, their speed drastically picking up as Hastes joined the usual protective spells. It took less than a minute to reach ground zero, where the Estharian army and a few combat machines selectively stung the massive Lunar Beast to keep it pinned in one place. It was not as simple as it seemed. Slightly larger than a city block, keeping the nightmare spider in one place basically meant shooting, hiding, and then popping out to shoot it again when someone else got its attention. It did not always go smoothly. The Megarach spat cables of acidic web as thick as telephone poles that spread out along the ground for a short time after impacting, snaring and harming anybody unlucky enough to encounter them. Buildings had been both blasted and bashed through by multiclawed feet of the girder-sized legs that further crushed the rubble to pebbles. Zell did not think about how if he got stepped on, there wouldn't be enough to send home in a biohazard bag. Instead he looked for the blue flash of Squall's gunblade and smiled when he saw it closer than he'd hoped. Squall, Laguna, and Rinoa were one of the stinging teams and moving in the slightly unnatural way that meant they'd been Hasted too.

 

“Run recovery for the army and help them keep the Beast in this location,” shouted Zell to the SeeDs. “The Commander and I are taking point on the assault.”

 

“Yessir!” The SeeDs split into their separate teams, some of them already glowing with healing magic and heading for injured and dying Estharian soldiers. One of the teams ran past a sparking ruin of some sort of mobile turret that was ominously spattered with blood and fired Firagas at the nearest Beast leg as it attempted to move in their direction. It immediately recoiled, tucking its leg back in an almost offended fashion as the GF-enhanced para-magic did what Estharian laser weaponry did not: actually hurt it. There were a few bits taken out of some of its other legs, probably due either to Squall or Rinoa. Zell couldn't imagine Laguna doing much damage until he saw the older man abruptly vanish and Shiva appear in his place. Shiva threw her signature Diamond Dust and disappeared before the freezing ray had even impacted the Beast, and by the time her magic hit the massive Beast-spider, Laguna was back in the real world and shaking off flakes of frost.

 

“When the hell did the President of Esthar learn to use GFs?” One of the SeeDs exclaimed. Zell chose not to enlighten him, though he was surprised Laguna had retained any knowledge from 'faerie time' all those years ago.

 

Squall hadn't noticed Zell and his team yet. His eyes were on Rinoa, who was casting Ultima or something that looked a heck of a lot like it. Whereas the Thundagas and other powerful spells from the SeeDs apparently tickled the Megarach, Rinoa's spells blasted off sections like she was taking a sledgehammer to a wall of packing peanuts. Zell had to admit that Rinoa had a good plan. Ultima spells were rare and hard to handle when cast, so the excessive amount of damage Rinoa caused with sorceress power could easily be explained by Ultima's legendary strength. Add that to the fact she was dressed like an ultra-secretive White SeeD and nobody would think to question 'SeeD Yawarac'. Unless they liked anagrams, anyway. She needed an actual good alias.

 

Zell cupped his hands around his mouth as they approached. “YOOO! Squall! You got reinforcements!”

 

Squall didn't look away but Zell saw him nod. At almost the same moment, Rinoa fired a blast of “Ultima” that hit the Megarach solidly in the nearest leg and made it stagger as a third of the leg fell off. As it dropped, it began evaporating into dense red smoke that did not stream up into the air, but rather fell straight down toward the ground and then spread out like like flour dropped on the ground. Zell heard the filters in his mask kick on with tinny whirs that poked his ear drums like blunt needles, but the noise was secondary to hearing what Squall was saying.

 

“What?”

 

Squall shouted again; his first yell had been lost in the blast of Rinoa's spell impacting the Beast. “I said, we're going to layer summons. You first, me next, Laguna third. Everyone else covers or moves us if necessary, and we'll keep it up until the Beast is dead.”

 

“You got it!” Zell shouted, and mentally chucked Ifrit in the shoulder. Showtime! The GF was raring to go, something more than the usual battle lust coloring its restless mind, and Zell swapped places with the firebeast as easily as tagging hands with someone else. He was used to the utter lack of sensation as he took Ifrit's place in the ether and watched the GF, now solid, leap high into the air. Flames pulled from that otherworld plane where GFs existed now became solid and huge, packing into a familiar proto-meteor that Ifrit blasted into the Megarach's body with the force of an exploding volcano.

 

“ _Nice job!”_ exhorted Zell. Ifrit preened, always susceptible to praise. But instead of landing back on the ground to give the body back, the fire GF leapt onto the Megarach's back as the Beast shuddered under the sudden weight and blazing heat of molten rock now dripping over its body. Ifrit eyed one of the Megarach's joints. The Megarach had fourteen legs instead of a spider's normal eight, and ten were still whole. With a rather humanlike roll of the shoulders, Ifrit wrapped its arms around the nearest leg and braced.

 

“ _Whoa whoa whoa—”_

 

“ _Calm down, mortal,”_ Ifrit shot back, strength beyond strength bunching its leg muscles and making the veins on its titanically muscled arms stand out from might. _“This is not the first time I have fought these Beasts.”_

 

“ _What?”_

 

“ _They are like terrestrial crabs. The joints are weak. Crack the plates and see how the ichor flows.”_

 

'The ichor', of course, being the miasma, and boy did it flow when Ifrit _ripped the goddamn leg off._ Zell was stunned. He had always known Ifrit to be strong (it wasn't just any old being that could rip up chunks of the planet's crust and powerslam them as often as needed) but this new demonstration drove the point home in a way Zell hadn't realized before. Ifrit sensed his renewed awe and growled in satisfaction before giving the body back to Zell.

 

The world came back in a shock of sensation (his shoes were very hot on top of the near-molten rock), scent (the miasma's signature cat piss smell), and sight (holy good god, was he high off the ground). Before, Zell had existed in a world of absolutely no sensation and he mentally put himself back there to draw on the power he had in his veins. Sensei Figure, a guest instructor at the Garden, had made much of 'chi' techniques that could mimic various elemental powers, and after a lot of meditation and hard work, Zell had finally figured out what his true elemental affinity was. Sure, he could summon Ifrit and yeah the Dolphin Blow was cool, but his own vital chi was something slower and more powerful. Something undeterred no matter the obstacle. Distantly he was aware of the rubber of his shoes starting to soften and stick to the molten rock on the Beast's back as he drew his breath down, down, down into his stomach, past his belly button, and into the triple burner that guest Sensei Figure had spoken so much about. There the air sat, converting into power, and Zell took aim at the nearest whole leg joint. He did not make a fist—his fist was not the hardest part of this particular strike. With the heel of his hand he struck with the cracking, shearing force of continents breaking against each other, his self-named Quake Fist smashing through the Megarach's thick armor and into the viscous miasma that flowed freely inside it. A shockwave of transferred force blasted down the leg and ricocheted madly in the tight confines, making Zell's hand ache. He pulled it back quickly, flinging the miasma off before it could start to eat into his Ehrgeiz gloves, and waited with bated breath.

 

And just like he had hoped, part of the leg exploded. Miasma burst like steam through vents on microfractures on the upper part of the Megarach's leg, nearly blasting the thing off the main body and making the Beast itself stumble away from the impact. Zell whooped and jumped into the air, or tried to. He had stood too long. The soles of his shoes were melting and when he jumped, the sudden stop made him lurch forward instead. Abruptly Zell found himself hanging over the edge of the Megarach's body, knees and hands burning as he automatically caught himself on the molten rock still covering the Megarach's back. Shit!

 

Abruptly Zell found himself upright as the Megarach dropped so suddenly that it made Zell's blood surge to his head and skin, and he managed to balance as the Megarach fell low to the ground and started walking with what legs it had left. The thick carpet of miasma underneath it blasted out like a reverse mushroom cloud as it sank, forcing several of the attacking teams to run back as the miasma reached toxic levels. Knowing he'd survived worse kept sudden panic under control, but it was a near thing as Zell saw steaming ruins of eyeballs the size of beachballs rolling blindly for direction on the Megarach's back. Worst of all something moved under his now very, very hot feet. There was no one around to give him crap for screaming, so Zell did. Loudly. Then again, there was no place for pride on the battlefield.

 

A glimmer of something out of the corner of his eye made Zell glance to his left and he ducked as green spears of ice thudded into the monster's body around him. They sank into the molten rock shell but instead of melting, spread out, and at once the burning crust turned black and cool. Almost immediately Zell's shoes came free in a quick double snap of cracking rubber. Below he saw Rinoa waving and abruptly Zell's feet left the Megarach's back. Just in time too. Zell swore as the Megarach started really running across the district, shattering buildings in its wake. Eight legs were still too many, even if Ifrit's attack seemed to be slowing it down.

 

The “Float” Rinoa had slapped on him made Zell come down just a hair short of 'too fast' and Zell had to push on his wrist to keep from hurling when he landed by Squall, Laguna, and the team he had come with. None of them were paying attention to him. The team was throwing magic and firing at the Megarach, Laguna was yelling at his wrist (oh, he had a communicator there: cool) and Squall was talking to an Estharian lady who looked like she'd just come from a party. Zell had to look at the woman more closely. She looked really familiar, but he wasn't sure why. He could count the number of Estharian people he'd interacted with and she definitely wasn't one of them, unless the GFs had started eating the memories of casual acquaintances. That was probably it.

 

“Zell.” It was Squall again.

 

“Huh?”

 

“God job with Ifrit,” said Squall, making Zell nod in understanding. “I'm sending your team ahead to help with pinning the Megarach down again.”

 

“Yeah, sure! But where's R—Err, SeeD Yee... Uh...” He gestured vaguely with his hands, hooking his thumbs together and flapping his fingers like wings.

 

Squall's mouth quirked. “SeeD Yawarac has been deployed ahead to slow the Megarach down. Her Ultimas seem to be working well.”

 

“Really well,” commented the Trabian SeeD. “I thought Ultima was way more uncontrolled.”

 

“She's practiced with the spell a lot.”

 

“How'd she do that without getting a massive brain hemorrhage?”

 

Squall's eyelids barely flickered. “She's a White SeeD. They're trained differently.”

 

“And how!” Laguna exploded into the conversation, making everyone jump. He cracked his knuckles enthusiastically, making Zell look at him more closely. There was a slightly manic spark in his eyes that was probably summon-high. Everyone reacted to swapping bodies with GFs a little differently.

 

“Let's go!” He shouted, running off. Everyone was forced to run after him lest he get injured. Later Zell wondered if Laguna had done that on purpose to pull the focus off “SeeD Yawarac”.

 

Rinoa must have teleported, because a burst of white light that literally burned made the Megarach stop short about four blocks away, and more explosions of light like dying stars cut off every attempt it made to escape. Squall put on a burst of speed that seemed just a bit too fast even with Haste, and Zell got a prickle of premonition thrilling up his neck before Squall seemed to turn into solid shadow and then explode into a cloud of shrieking bats. The bats quickly outstripped the group and reformed near the Megarach, pushing and melding into the familiar yet still nightmarish shape of Diablos. The demon glanced around, flung it arms out wide, and pieces of rubble the size of cars lifted off the ground, slowly at first and then speeding up as they “fell” with punishing force toward the Megarach's body. The titanic impacts of entire sides of buildings smashing into the Beast's body made Zell's teeth ache, but he was already calling on Ifrit again and by the time Squall reformed, the fire GF was already surging forward.

 

With so many SeeDs, so many GFs, and the unacknowledged power of a sorceress helping things along, it still took about ten more minutes of combat to dispatch the Megarach, and the last several minutes went by particularly fast as the SeeD teams aiding the army finished their healing duties and added their might to the fray. The Megarach attempted to fight, but its foes were too small, too many, and too quick for it to trap with cables of sticky acidic web, or to swat with spike-laden legs. It fell like a burning building, making everyone sprint away as opaque clouds of roiling miasma spread out beneath it, and Zell gagged as his hard-worked mask started to let through more than clean air. Fortunately the miasma's smell was not deadly, but if he was smelling ammonia and cat pee through a filter then it wasn't long before the bad stuff would be coming through.

 

“ _I hope the civilian shelter is really airtight... If I know monster and Beast behavior, it ran straight for the civs to eat them and replenish its mass. Which means we're either close to them or sitting on top of them now. That's not good... Come to think of it, even if we kill the Beast, we've still got all this miasma! How—”_

 

“Heads down, hold your breath,” shouted an unfamiliar female voice. A second later Zell heard Squall shouting the same thing, his breath sounding a bit too robust for the density of miasma in the air. Zell glanced over at his friend and leader to see some sort of ripple in the air around his head. It was the visible effect of crazy strong Vitality junctions, strengthening a person's personal energy field until it actually pushed the miasma out of the air. Zell's junctions were pretty good but he didn't pack Forbidden spells like trail mix because he liked to keep his chances of his head exploding as low as possible; however, Squall was Rinoa's knight in all but name so maybe he got some immunity from that. In any case it wasn't important now. Zell ducked and held his breath like he was told.

 

Two seconds later, he got the answer about why he had to stay down and stop breathing, and also what was to be done about the miasma. A whirling spire of red-hot fire grew out of the densest part of the miasma like a tree made of flames, branches and leaves snaking out seemingly to grab it and pull it in. Currents of miasma flowed into the fire, slowly at first and then with increasing speed as the fire whirl paradoxically got tighter and smaller. Clear air vented out from the thin fiery chimney at the center of the whirl, flattening the miasma and feeding it into the roots. Zell was impressed, especially when the fire whirl got tighter, lower, and started to flicker into a hotter blue that sucked up miasma even faster.

 

It was not all smooth sailing. Three times the fire whirl disappeared, only to reappear with a burst of renewed energy and focus, and the last one seemed particularly loose and wobbly. But by then, Rinoa had reappeared and she “did the same thing” with something that could pass as a Firaga, and better still, the SeeDs around her were able to use their fire spells to clean up the air too. In less than fifteen minutes, the miasma was all gone. Zell looked around, realizing for the first time just how bad everything had gotten when he saw nothing but rubble as far as the eyes could see.

 

“What the shit was that blue fire?” Someone exclaimed.

 

“My consultant,” said a lady, quite smugly, and Zell glanced over to see the woman in fancy dress all but preening. 'Familiar' jangled Zell's senses again and he grumbled, annoyed at the memory loss all over again. Especially when she said, “He has a lot of experience when it comes to burning the miasma out of the air.”

 

“Great job, everybody!” Laguna exclaimed, which wasn't strictly necessary but it made everyone smile to be acknowledged. He turned to the lady in fancy dress, who was looking around like she was expecting to see somebody. “Officer Labdanum, casualties on this level?”

 

The woman cocked her head and touched her hand to her ear. “Two dead, thirty-six injured and healed, ten still injured. 12 civilian casualties at the onset but no more since we arrived on the scene.”

 

Someone else might have exclaimed about the low figures considering the size of the Beast and the potential for harm, but they were not Laguna Loire. Zell saw the muscles in the older man's jaw jump as he clenched it and his hands too, making him look older and harder than Zell had ever seen. With a bit of a shock Zell saw more than a trace of Squall's angry face in Laguna's expression.

 

“What about in general?” Laguna asked, and even his voice was like an echo of something Squall's would turn into in the future: low, sharp, and full of command.

 

“There's still fighting on six of the floors.” Officer Labdanum looked at Laguna, eyes narrowing. “Permission to rejoin the XDI forces on Level 1?”

 

“Yeah, sure. Go.” Laguna cracked his knuckles. “We'll just—”

 

Officer Labdanum twitched. At first Zell thought she was passing a silent but very rude judgment on Laguna's decision, but a second later she smirked a little and said, “Sir... Vice President Seagill wants to me to pass a message to you. Apparently your communicator is broken.”

 

“What? Aww, nuts.” Laguna winced, instantly back to the self Zell knew. “What's he saying?”

 

Officer Labdanum leaned close to him and cupped her hand around his ear to murmur something. Laguna folded his arms, nodded seriously a few times, and finally winced one last time.

 

“Alright,” he said to her. “I'll go. Meanwhile, how are you feeling? Are you sure you're good to redeploy?”

 

“Of course, sir.” Officer Labdanum looked around and took a deep breath. “X! Scarlet! Come over here right now!”

 

Now Zell had very keen hearing. Indeed, Ma had always joked that he had ears like a bat, and so when he heard a female voice calling back, “Give us a minute!” his core turned subzero in shock and it took every ounce of training in him not to scream.

 

“ _No, no, no... That's gotta be a mistake. That_ can't _be Quistis's voice. I mean... Yeah, her ID scanned in about four days ago... But she would have come to the outpost! Unless... No. NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”_

 

Yeah, he had no proof, but Zell's intuition was usually spot on and he knew, _he knew,_ why she hadn't reported in. For a very, very smart woman, Quistis sometimes did really stupid things. And right then and there, Zell decided it was always 100% going to be Seifer's fault.

 

Perceptive as always, Rinoa caught the wild-eyed look on his face and discreetly came over. She looked very different: White SeeD uniform, red hair and green eyes, almost deadly and professional, but the way she moved and the sound of her voice were all the same girl Zell had come to think of as one of his best friends over the past year. As she murmured to Zell without moving her lips, Zell remembered that Rinoa had been part of a successful resistance movement for multiple reasons.

 

“What's going on?”

 

“I think, err... Our blonde friend and her boyfriend are on the scene.”

 

It took Rinoa a moment, but the instant understanding popping over her face made the panic in Zell's chest redouble. Rinoa looked like she was about to scream too, her hands flying up to her mouth in a very showy expression of horror, but fortunately everyone was distracted. Except Squall, who of course noticed that his two dear friends were on the verge of a freakout. He didn't move, but caught Rinoa's eye and a second later, twitched visibly. Zell realized that Rinoa had somehow told him what was going on without saying a word.

 

“ _It wouldn't be so bad if it was just us around and maybe Laguna because he seems cool, but we have eight more SeeDs here and they're going to want to talk to Quistis and if people start asking questions oh my god this could turn out so bad but what do we do—”_

 

From around the corner of a building that had remained intact, there came a woman wearing tall boots, a russet knee-length dress with long sleeves, and her hair pulled back into a familiar fishtail. Her bright blue eyes were focused on the man she was helping to walk, which was just as well since that meant she wasn't looking at Zell, Rinoa, and Squall as they all went as stiff as boards. It wasn't just the shock of recognition.

 

“ _What the hell is wrong with Quistis's face?!”_

 

Zell knew people looked different as the older they got and yeah, it had been a few months since he'd seen Quistis last. But this was different. Something was _wrong._ Her hair was both shorter and darker, with weird black streaks scattered irregularly throughout. Her cheekbones had somehow dropped and her nose had become flatter and wider, the bridge melting into her brow in an unbroken line. Her eyebrows were gone, but their lack of framing didn't take away any focus from her very large eyes, which were a lot darker than Zell remembered. It looked like they were nothing but jet-black pupil and it was freaky as hell. At least, that was what Zell thought until he saw something moving on the woman's head and saw two small but undeniable pointy, furred ears poking out around where one expected catlike ears to be. Zell exchanged quick looks with Squall and Rinoa, who seemed just as aghast.

 

“He's not well,” said Quistis to Officer Labdanum as she approached. Even her voice seemed rougher than normal, inhuman in some way. “I think he overdid it with the fire whirls.”

 

Did she know she wasn't right? Zell stared and then remembered that staring was one, rude and two, would probably draw more attention to her weird state. Especially the ears. What the fuck. What the _actual fuck._

 

Officer Labdanum rolled her eyes. “Of _course_ he would. Hey, X?” She snapped her fingers in front of the man's drooping head. Though his face was covered by an older style of Estharian mask that looked like something out of an Adel-era documentary, Zell had the feeling he knew exactly what the man looked like. “X, you conscious?”

 

“Ha ha,” said a hoarse male voice. Zell's guts churned with recognition, but at the same time he realized that if someone didn't know Seifer's voice already, they never would hear it under the raw, gravelly tones he was speaking in now. Seifer stood up straight, wobbling just a little, and said to the officer, “So, when do things get interesting?”

 

Officer Labdanum rolled her eyes and looked at Quistis, who still had her focus on Seifer. “He's gonna puke and/or pass out if he does any more. Can I count on you to keep him stationary?”

 

Quistis rolled her eyes a bit and turned to look at Officer Labdanum. Zell flinched as she glanced over him and then abruptly looked back with just a flick of motion. It was a testament to Quistis's ability to handle shock that aside from a slight widening of the eyes, she showed absolutely no sign that she knew anybody she was looking at, let alone three people (four?) people she had saved the world with. In fact, she went still in the way cats went still before either striking or running away. God, Quistis didn't even look like herself! If Zell hadn't spent so much time with her and seen her first freaky-ass transformation, he never would have recognized his old friend. Anxiously Zell looked around, paranoid that some of the other SeeDs would recognize Quistis anyway, but no one did. Properly cautious, they were keeping an eye on their surroundings and letting the ranking SeeDs talk.

 

“I'll make sure X behaves,” said Quistis to Officer Labdanum.

 

“Fuck you, I'm fine,” said Seifer, now sounding perilously like his old self. Zell glanced nervously around the assembled SeeDs again, but none of them were showing any reaction. Meanwhile Seifer said, “I can't spit any more fire, but I can still fight.”

 

“Sure you can... Another day.” The officer listened to something only she could hear again. “Medevac's on its way. I want you on the ship with everyone else. Scarlet, you stay with me.”

 

“No,” said Seifer, bristling for some reason, but Quistis grasped his forearm and increased pressure until he looked at her.

 

“I'll be fine,” she said, which seemed like an incredibly bizarre thing to say considering who they were and the circumstances they were in. “I'll see you _later.”_

 

Seifer shook his head and then to Zell's inexplicable embarrassment, touched Quistis's face, flicking the pad of his thumb over something that was starting to look hornlike. She flinched a little but said nothing, and blue came back into her unnervingly dark eyes as extremely dilated pupils thinned just enough to show color. Her ears flicked, just barely hidden by the hair escaping from her twist.

 

“You need rest too,” Seifer said, his voice as serious as Zell had ever heard it. “So if I'm going down, you're staying with me.”

 

The last remark seemed to be directed at Officer Labdanum, who made a slightly sour face. When she said nothing, Seifer looked slightly past Quistis's head to glare at Officer Labdanum, and to Zell's surprise she glared right back. It was then that Zell got the next worse shock of his day when he realized exactly why Officer Labdanum looked so familiar, and if he had been in any other situation he would have screamed “YOOOOOOOOO” at the top of his lungs from seeing a female version of Seifer. Wasn't one of them bad enough already?!

 

Like apparently butted heads with like. The two of them glared at each other for what seemed like a very long time before Officer Labdanum finally blinked and shook her head.

 

“Fine,” she said shortly, resting her hand on the hilt of her sword. “But only on the condition that she reports in to my office tomorrow for debriefing.”

 

Debriefing? What the hell had Quistis gotten into?

 

“She's not going into the office,” said Seifer, his voice as hot and hard as forge-red iron. “Look at her. The eggheads would go nuts and then order you to stick her in a specimen container.” As Officer Labdanum grumbled, he said, “You can debrief her at my place tomorrow morning.”

 

“I _can?_ ” Officer Labdanum said in a soft female version of Seifer's “cruising for a bruising” tone. Out of the corner of his eye, Zell noticed Squall unconsciously wincing.

 

Seifer opened his mouth and Quistis squeezed his arm again. He took a breath and said, “We'll both be there for debriefing. Ma'am.”

 

“Then I'll see you bright and early at 0900,” said Officer Labdanum, apparently satisfied with this veneer of respect.

 

The high-pitched whine of a medevac hover cut further conversation short, but once again Zell's exceptional hearing came into play. On the one hand he listened to Squall relaying orders to the assembled SeeDs and on the other he listened to Seifer and Quistis whispering to each other.

 

“You can't let her—”

 

“If I go miss—”

 

“Questions—”

 

“I don't want—”

 

“I'll be _fine._ I'll make up— _”_

 

“It's already been scanned—”

 

“Don't you dare—”

 

“Zell.”

 

Zell leapt nearly a foot into the air as Squall's voice sounded way too close in his ear. When he spun around to look, however, Squall was standing a normal distance away and looking at him strangely. Batlike hearing had its downsides.

 

“Level 24 has some kind of armored beast that nothing's cutting through and GFs are taking too long to bash it in. Take your team there and use whatever you did on the Megarach to soften it up for the GFs.”

 

“Sure thing, Squall,” said Zell, momentarily forgetting he was talking to a superior officer. But that was the privilege of being a hero and all. Zell looked around to see what another hero friend was doing and found that she was already loading on to the medevac with her villain boyfriend. Zell couldn't help but see that as tired and wobbly as Seifer seemed, he still got on first and pulled Quistis up onto the step like he was the one taking care of her. She didn't seem to notice, but then again she was turning her face from wounded soldiers who still looked at her in shock despite their own injuries. Zell couldn't exactly blame them but still winced for his friend's embarrassment. What the heck had happened while she'd been away? And more importantly, what was going to happen now?

 

“ _If anybody's smart enough to get out of this situation with her skin in one piece it's Quistis, but Seifer's got enough bad luck for, like, ten people... Oh man. Oh man! Mannn... I get the feeling this isn't gonna be good at all!”_

 

But there was no time to fret over Quistis's situation. All over New Esthar, the teams that didn't have the benefit of 5 GFs and a sorceress whaling on a single target were taking longer to destroy their Lunar Beasts, and Zell didn't get a moment to breathe until six hours after the crisis broke. By then he felt like a piece of bacon, his skin sizzling over his muscles while he himself felt like he was melting into goo. The GFs were hyper. All of them had gotten to manifest today and now they were bouncing in his head like pinballs, something like _“LET'S DO IT AGAIN! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!”_ making Zell break into bursts of shadowboxing to get them to settle down. Not everyone showed the same signs. When Zell loaded onto the SeeD hover (which was solid-sided, armored, and more like a flying gunboat than anything else), about half the people seemed to be asleep and the others looked like they were on their way to nodding off too. Zell caught the eye of Marlburn, the next highest-ranked SeeD in New Esthar after Squall, Zell, and Officer Alton Brenner.

 

“It's been a good day,” said Malburn by way of greeting. “No one dead yet.”

 

“Whoa, really?”

 

“Yeah.” Marlburn grinned through a yawn. “Coupla close calls but none of ours met the Good God today. Oh, you've got flight experience, right? Can you switch out with Noby? She looks about dead on her feet and—”

 

“Yeah, no problem,” said Zell with just half of a wince. Even though all he wanted was to fall asleep too, the GFs jumping around in his head were making it impossible to relax right now. The idea of unjunctioning, taking a hot shower, and slugging a well-deserved coconut water before passing out took on an appeal that seemed practically indecent, but Zell dreamed about it anyway as he strapped into the pilot's seat and re-familiarized himself with the controls. It didn't take long for everyone to load on since his team had been one of the last ones fighting and after a quick headcount to make sure everyone was there, it was doors shut and into the air with them. Marlburn's assessment held true and Zell flew back to the outpost with a little smile on his face and much less anxiety than usual. Usually navigating the crowded airspace of New Esthar set his hackles up out of necessary caution, but the emergency alert was still in place and so nothing was out except government vehicles. Zell tiredly wished he could enjoy the sights of New Esthar's many levels through the front window. Aside from the occasional smutches of destruction he saw through the hover tube walls, it all seemed pretty and picturesque and normal. But of course, it wasn't that way any more. As exhausted as he was, Zell knew life in New Esthar would never be the same again.

 

And that point hit with jangling, painful relevance as Zell flew the hover out onto Level 10, turned to the outpost, and saw it in pieces.

 

“Fuck,” he whispered, shock hollowing out his core. Nobody heard him. Everyone was asleep or on their way there, so nobody noticed either when Zell accelerated and turned on the radio at the same time. Mercifully the GFs quieted down and their manic energy fed into his focus, making Zell feel like he was ready to charge into some kind of battle again as he called the outpost. Maybe a radio had survived. Maybe there was someone alive to hear it..

 

“Outpost, this is AV-2. Do you copy? Over.”

 

There was an ominous silence at the other end of the line and Zell clenched his jaw so hard that he heard his teeth cracking. But it was just the steering wheel buckling under his hands as he flew closer and saw that the outpost had been torn apart like a beached turtle. It was too far away to see if there was blood but—wait. Movement from the platform where the outpost was. Oh thank the entire pantheon, there were people alive. It was not Trabia Garden all over again.

 

“ _What happened while we were all away?”_

 

The outpost was set up like a miniature Garden, with a central hub and hallways like spokes of a wheel leading to satellite structures sitting on tiled platforms like petals. No few of these petals had been pulled off or shredded, but one was intact and big enough to hold a rough field hospital and a space big enough for the hover to land. Zell set down as quickly as possible and had the doors opening before the hover had even touched down, vaulting out of his seat as soon as it was safe to move.

 

“Everyone up, we're on recovery!” He bellowed, darting through the door before it fully opened. He was laying Triple and Haste before he had gotten even three steps over the ground and looked around immediately for someone to heal. There had to be damages, right? In front of him in the open-air field hospital, people were lying out on their backs and this one had a cloth on their face, this one had a cloth on their face, this one had a cloth on their face too...

 

“ _Come on, come_ on, _someone's gotta be alive!”_

 

“Dincht.”

 

Zell whipped around. Officer Alton Brenner was sitting on the floor, absently holding the hand of someone who also had a cloth over their face and an irregular splotch of red that was just starting to turn dull with coagulation. Zell immediately dropped to his knees by the outpost commander, who seemed like he was staring at something far away.

 

“Sir, are you injured?”

 

“No. Not anymore.” Alton swallowed. His voice was soft and hoarse with whatever yelling he'd done during the crisis. “Nobody's injured anymore.”

 

Zell's heart surged into his throat. “You mean—”

 

“No.” Alton shook his head a little, making his sweat-damp hair move stiffly with the motion. “The healed are in the wreckage, getting what they can. Everyone else is... Here.”

 

“ _The only people who stayed behind were recovering from Beast injuries,”_ Zell thought numbly. Whatever had happened here hadn't been a fair fight.

 

“I killed them all,” said Alton, and as Zell's jaw dropped in horror, the man shook his head slightly and said in a quiet, empty tone, “The monsters. I got them. Our people softened them up and once I got the auto-defenses up, it was all over. It was...”

 

Alton's fingers clenched around the dead SeeD's hand and Zell saw him starting to shake. Zell pressed a Curaga on him and immediately Alton started sobbing, all but collapsing onto the corpse. Belatedly Zell realized he'd given the man just enough energy to have a breakdown.

 

“It's not fair, the missiles didn't get you, it's not fair—”

 

“WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!” Zell heard someone screaming behind him. He wincd, but Alton curled into a ball and kept weeping, clutching the dead SeeD like he could hold her soul in. With a sinking heart, Zell cast a Sleep spell on the officer. As Alton went boneless with enforced slumber, Zell manipulated the man out onto his back and noticed with a pang that he had never let go of the other SeeD's hand. Then his vision blurred and Zell had to take a few deep breaths before he broke down crying too. If Alton was down and Squall was elsewhere, he was the ranking SeeD.

 

“Marlburn!” Zell shouted, and if he was a little more hysterical than commanding, nobody noticed or cared.

 

“Sir!”

 

Zell stood up and turned around to see the entire hover unloaded, shocked and terribly alert looks on every face. There were 66 intact SeeDs left out of what had once been 92 stationed. Damn it. DAMN IT!

 

“ _Why did this happen here? Why did this happen_ again? _What are we supposed to do now...?”_

 

That, of course, was a moot question. Bitterly Zell couldn't help but think that while buildings exploded and people died, at least there was always _procedure_ to fall back on.

 

“Take half our people and set up a perimeter!” Zell barked at Marlburn, who saluted. “And watch out for the auto-defenses! The other half, you're going into the outpost and scavenging what you can. Who's got forensic training?!” Ten hands shot up. “You five on the left, you study the dead for any clues to who did this! You five on the right, you do the same with the wreck! YOU, get me someone who can tell me what happened! I'm calling the Commander.”

 

“I can tell you what happened,” said a tired voice, and Zell whipped around to see one of the people lying down in the field hospital wave a little. Three-quarters of her left leg was gone, the stump already flat and healed smooth from powerful Curaga spells so recently cast that her gaze was still unfocused. If she was feeling pain, it was distant for now. Zell went to her immediately, peripherally aware that the healthy SeeDs were spreading out to work.

 

“When we left, everything was fine,” he said to the SeeD, whose shoulders bore Balamb blue. She pushed herself halfway up, her chest rising with a very long, slow breath.

 

“It was fine for the first hour,” she said, her speech only a little slurred. “Off'cer Brenner was coordinating people, things were calm... Uhh...”

 

“Where were you?”

 

“C'mand center. I was, um... Deploying. No... Monitoring the deployments.” She took a deep breath and forced her eyes to an over-alert wideness. “77 minutes after you all left, there was some kind of interference on our lines. Officer Brenner didn't want us blind, so he deferred communications to Commander Leonhart. Five minutes after that order went through, everything went dark at once. And then the monsters came.”

 

“What kind of monsters? More Lunar Beasts?”

 

“No. They didn't melt or miasma or anything. They looked normal but they were bigger and they were smarter too.” She started trembling a little as she said, “A Blitz came into the command center. It shocked us all and then started cutting us down while we were still on the ground. I was further away, so I hit it with a Meltdown and Davaluri just started punching it to death before Officer Brenner got the autoturrets on. And then we went out and... They were everywhere.”

 

“More Blitzes?”

 

“No, different kinds. Umm... A Buer, except the colors were wrong and it fired really powerful spells. This Bite Bug that was probably four times as big as usual and this blue-black color. A Caterchipillar, except it was red with blue spots and it was working with the Bite Bug, I swear...” Tears welled in her eyes. “They pinned me. The Caterchipillar webbed me and the Bite Bug bit off my leg, my whole leg, and—”

 

“Shh, shh, shh,” said Zell helplessly as she started sniffling. He hated that he couldn't do anything more or think of anything more useful to do. “They're gone. They're all gone now.”

 

“They were too smart,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “They were too fast. Everybody just...”

 

“Not everybody's dead,” he soothed as she started to wobble. He helped her lie back down as he said, “Everyone who went out in the field came back fine. We're all here now. We're gonna take care of you.”

 

“Why did this happen?”

 

The question stabbed Zell right in the heart. Mercifully the SeeD passed out, tears seeping out from her lashes even as her body relaxed subtly with healing sleep. Zell punched the ground, the pain shocking up his arm an unwelcome reminder that he was alive and everybody else was dead, dead, dead...

 

“Instructor Dincht, you need to see this!”

 

Zell pushed himself to his feet, fighting two equally strong urges that bordered on compulsions. The first was to scream at the person to leave him alone for five seconds, because damn it, there was so much to deal with already and he needed to breathe, he wasn't cut out for command and... No. NO. He was the ranking SeeD. He had command whether he liked it or not. Zell held onto that fact, because it helped temper the second compulsion, which was to go running off in search of something else to kill. His temper was boiling very, very close to the surface, almost toxic with its need to get out and do _something_ , even if it wasn't constructive. But no. They had lost a third of their fighting force, something close to a fifth of SeeD total, and he needed to keep his strength for when bloody vengeance would rain down from all directions on the people responsible. Zell exhaled hard and jogged over to the person who had called out for him.

 

It turned out to be his Trabian teammate. The man was standing with three other SeeDs—two in field uniforms, one with half-healed miasma burns on her arms—by a broken autoturret spattered with blood and still aimed at the corpse of... Something. Some of Zell's fury sputtered into pure confusion as he came up to the dead body and just stared at it for a while.

 

“...Huh,” said Zell, which made the other SeeDs glance at each other.

 

“Well, that can't be good,” quipped one of the field SeeDs. “You've been all over the world, and if _you_ go 'huh' at something like this—”

 

“Yeah, I got nothing for ya,” said Zell, his eyes fixed on the half-Mesmerize, _half-human_ shape in front of him. A glittering scythelike horn stabbed through the autoturret, clearly stopping it from firing, but the remains of the head it had belonged to was decidedly more humanlike than horselike. The autoturret had severed this head from its body, which was a nauseating mixture of purple hide and white fur blending into suntanned skin as well as quadraped muscle structure turning into human anatomy in unnatural, uneven ways. Zell could only shake his head. Somehow he had thought that he'd reached his lifetime quota for weirdness with Ultimecia and Time Compression.

 

“This is the strangest thing I've ever seen,” one of the other SeeDs muttered. Zell looked at the SeeD in casual clothes and miasma burns over her arms.

 

“You've been out here a couple months, right? You seen anything like this on the surface?”

 

“No.”

 

Zell gestured at the destruction around them. “What blew up the outpost?”

 

“Combat madness,” she said, looking around and shaking her head. “They were all so fast. After a while, we stopped trying to kill them and just pulled back to regroup. Someone blasted a hole in the wall and we threw massed magic at them until they left. We just didn't have the strength or numbers to go after them...”

 

So smart monsters, maybe shapeshifters, that could take down SeeDs with ease and prejudice were now loose in New Esthar. Great. Zell exhaled hard and tried to think of what Squall or Xu would do in this situation. Then he remembered what he'd been about to do earlier and nearly facepalmed like both of them did in exasperating situations.

 

“I'm going to call all of this in to the Commander,” he said, making the other SeeDs nod. “And after that, I'll, uhhh... Be around. Doing what needs done.”

 

He left then, too tired to attempt an appearance of authority, and over his shoulder heard someone say, “Hell of a thing to come home to.”

 

Home? This place wasn't home. Home was safe no matter what. Home was where you went back to when everything was falling down. Home was where they loved you.

 

Whatever interference that had originally knocked out the coms was still in effect, so Zell had to fly the hover about three hundred feet away and call Squall from the air. After finding out he was already on the way and relaying the pertinent details (Squall hung up before anything else could be exchanged), Zell found himself using the hover's comm device to call his parents. According to the time difference it was 5am in Balamb, but his folks were typically awake: Pa because he was just leaving for work and Ma because she was getting ready for the day. The two rings before someone picked up were just short enough that Zell couldn't talk himself out of calling.

 

“Dincht household, Maryanne speaking,” said Ma in her sweet, clear telephone voice. Zell's throat locked up a little.

 

“H-hi, Ma.”

 

Instantly her voice changed. And to Zell's intense relief, it was like nothing had ever changed. “Zell! Sweetie, what's wrong?”

 

“I... Uh...” Zell covered his face with the hand not holding the phone, fingertips digging tracks through the sweat and grime sheening his forehead. His breath rattled through the miasma mask, which was still full of enough miasma gunk that he couldn't smell the blood and bile in the air that had to be around him. “I'm sorry I didn't call—”

 

“Don't be sorry, just tell me what's wrong! You sound like your heart's breaking.”

 

A day ago, her oblivious insistence on what she wanted him to say would have pissed Zell off. Now all he could hear was the love behind a hundred thousand checkups and check-ins, and he had to swallow hard before the crying could set in. He knew he wouldn't have much time before Ma started pestering him for more information or guessing what the problem might be... But instead, Ma was silent. Not gone, but listening. Actually listening.

 

“Ma, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

 

“Oh, Zell.” Now her voice was cracking too. “I miss you, son.”

 

“I miss you too, Ma.”

 

“And... And whatever's happening over there, your Pa and I are just fine. You don't have to worry about us.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Is everything alright?”

 

“No.”

 

“Oh no. Can... Can you talk about it?”

 

Zell shook his head, belatedly remembering she couldn't see him. “Not right now. Umm... Classified stuff. But, uh... Listen. Can... Can you come out?”

 

“To Esthar?” The shock was palpable. Ma had never left Balamb Island except once, to go down to Centra and adopt a little boy. Zell swallowed hard. Would she make the journey for the same child even if he wasn't a little boy anymore?

 

“ _That's right, I'm not a boy anymore. And I gotta protect my folks. If the SeeD outpost isn't safe and New Esthar isn't safe, where is?”_

 

“Never mind, Ma. I was just, um...”

 

“Zell, you're not making any sense,” said Ma quietly, kindly. “You sound exhausted.”

 

“I am.”

 

“Then why don't you rest, honey? We can talk later. I love you.”

 

 _They could talk later._ That did it. Zell bowed his head, the tears finally spilling from his eyes. He nodded a few times before managing to croak out, “Okay, love you” and then hang up. There was no one in the hover to see him weep from fatigue, grief, and a strange sort of relief that he still had a mother to go home to. The secrets of his past were still important, but less urgent now. After a couple of minutes, Zell took a few deep breaths, scrubbed the tears off his face, and straightened his spine. He needed to be ready for what was next, because if he knew Squall and if he knew procedure, there was going to be some serious action. Once they knew where to go, SeeD would burn the perps to the ground and salt the earth after. The thought was gruesomely comforting. Zell flew the hover back to the ruined outpost thinking about what a Quake Fist would do to the head of the person who'd planned this horrible uderhanded honorless assault, and when he landed, he was more than ready to find out. He didn't get mad often, but when he did...

 

“ _No one takes us out like this._ No one.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: Poor Alton Brenner. He has a rough time of it. After surviving the Trabian missiles attacks, he looks like Two-Face.  


Points for whoever catches the Battle Angel Alita references in the chapter.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this update.

The medevac was full of people in various states of injury and emergency, so no one paid attention to Seifer and Quistis as they found a spot along the wall to sit down and rest. Seifer was grumbling under his breath about being sidelined, or so Quistis thought until his head bumped against hers and she realized that he had fallen asleep, and what she'd thought was his muttering was actually the hardworking medevac engine kicking on. As the transport lifted into the air, Quistis at last breathed a sigh of relief. Between Seifer's penchant for wearing concealing robes and whatever changes had happened to her because of blue magic, no one had recognized them. Yet. Thank goodness for small blessings.

 

Surreptitiously Quistis ran her hands over her face and hair, jumping a bit when she felt her ears up much higher than they should have been, as well as flexible and furry. Focusing very hard on her human shape, she half-concentrated and half-pulled them back to their regular position and felt them shift from soft fuzz to smooth skin under her fingertips. It was thankfully very easy to do. Quistis breathed out a surge of fear before it had chance to take hold but nevertheless touched her face to check for whiskers (none) and licked her teeth to see if she had fangs (slight; a thought put them back into normal configuration). When she looked at her hands, her nails were rather longer than they usually were, but when she concentrated on them they stayed the same; apparently it had just been a while since she'd clipped them last. That was good, but overall, well...

 

“ _It usually takes me more effort to change. Is it going to start taking more effort for me to stay as myself, now?”_

 

The scales had originally come on after a dream. She was sprouting ears and fangs after hard fighting. What was next? Her mind spun possibilities like the spokes of a spiderweb as the medevac made a few more stops and then flew to the nearest hospital. As the vehicle landed, Seifer stirred and got up without complaint or question, and somewhat absently Quistis noticed he was still holding her hand. Did he think she was going to go somewhere?

 

“You should rest,” she told him as they eeled out of the medevac. In the general rush of evacuating the very sick and hurt, no one noticed two people moving away from the healing instead of toward it.

 

“I'll rest better at home,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Can't be in the system... More than I am already, anyway.”

 

Quistis understood. She blew another White Whistle on Seifer, one of many, and his stride smoothed out a little. He gave her hand a squeeze.

 

“I'm fine,” he said, though his voice still sounded too hoarse for her liking. “I'm just tired from the fire stuff. You're overdoing it.”

 

“I might as well overdo it for a reason,” said Quistis, nodding at his chest. “Those little filters we got weren't as comprehensive as I'd like and you were right in the thick of it.”

 

“So were you,” said Seifer, looking at her sidelong. “You're alright?”

 

“I'm tired, but not particularly unwell.”

 

“How's your chest feel?”

 

“Fine.”

 

Seifer's eyes narrowed at that, but he didn't seem to be thinking anything in particular other than 'odd'. Instead he tightened his grip around her fingers and they walked through the increasingly quieter streets of New Esthar. This hospital was just one level above Seifer's boardinghouse, and in the case of the hovers being down, there were extremely long ladders that people could use to climb up or down. Every fifty feet or so there were resting platforms and Seifer took advantage of every single one for at least half a minute. To Quistis he smelled ill and the fact that he was largely silent was another indicator that he was not feeling his best. When they finally got to the relevant level and began walking toward the boardinghouse, Seifer had the semiconscious shuffle of a trained soldier who'd been taught that it was better to die moving than stand still. He hadn't let go of her hand yet, but now Quistis held onto his just as tightly for support. She was not sure why he was so terribly tired, but then again he had been using a lot of fire. Perhaps that was the downside of rapidly using a near-inexhaustible supply.

 

“We're almost there,” said Quistis softly as she and Seifer walked down the empty, silent streets. “Just a little further and then you can rest.”

 

Seifer nodded, his eyes almost closed. The rest of the walk to reach the boardinghouse made Quistis seriously think about putting Seifer over her shoulders and carrying him as his steps grew slower and then erratic, but he did not faint when they reached the boardinghouse door. When a retinal scan resulted in an annoying, thwarting buzz, Seifer growl/sighed and punched a button near the door.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Dhariya, let me in.”

 

“X? Is that you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Is it safe out there?”

 

“Yes.” Seifer rubbed his face with his free hand. “Thanks in no small part to me. And I'm exhausted. Let me in.”

 

“What about the miasma?”

 

Seifer's eyes flashed and he opened his mouth like he was going to shout, so Quistis spoke up. “Hello, Dhariya. There's no miasma out here. It's perfectly safe.”

 

“Who is that?”

 

“It's Scarlet. I'm staying with X.”

 

“Ah.” The post-menopausal landlady's voice took on disapproving tones. “Of course. One... Moment.”

 

“She doesn't like me, does she?” Quistis murmured to Seifer.

 

“She keeps trying to hook me up with her daughter,” Seifer muttered back, turning so he could lean against the boardinghouse's wall. “God only knows why. I'm basically a drifter with nothing to my name and there's gotta be better aspects.”

 

“And you're also taken.”

 

“I guess.” Seifer looked at her with very tired and very fond eyes. “I'm glad you spent all this time with the Shumi. Never had to worry about anyone hitting on you.”

 

Quistis looked at him archly. “Are you saying _I_ have cause to be worried?”

 

“Nah. But you're you and even before you were famous, people were buzzing around.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “Gets me wondering if... If we spend too much time apart...”

 

“ _If you go back to SeeD,”_ was the unspoken implication. Quistis sighed. The same thought had occurred to her and while a part of her stubbornly insisted things would work out, the odds kept shouting otherwise. Of course, she could leave the Garden... But then what? She didn't want to leave just for Seifer and yes, working with the XDI could be very interesting but only if they took her on. They probably would—she still had that strange crystal she'd gotten from Elder Makine that she wanted them to check out—but then what?

 

“ _And then there's the matter of Seifer being caught,”_ she thought as Seifer's eyes closed and his chest fell with a very deep, slow breath. _“If I'm still with the Garden system, I could protect him if he was ever pulled in. If nothing else, I could bargain a long-term employment with Xu to make sure I end up in a position to make sure he's treated fairly.”_

 

“ _Don't you fucking dare,”_ snapped the voice in her head that had grown since the start of her independence and sounded perilously like Seifer. Quistis couldn't help but laugh at it a little. Seifer would definitely be angry if she lost her freedom to the Garden just to help him. 

 

An electronic peep heralded the door sliding open and Quistis got Seifer to lean against her shoulder as the nervous landlady peered out. Several of the boardinghouse guests were behind her and a few of them held weapons with various levels of readiness and competency, but no one was so proactive as to come out and guard the entry. Quistis noted and ignored them all, particularly when she saw several of them boggling at her face.

 

“My word!” Dhariya yelped at them. “What happened to you two?”

 

“Fighting,” said Seifer shortly.

 

“Didn't you find a shelter?” Dhariya demanded, following them as Quistis helped Seifer walk down the short hall and into the boardinghouse's courtyard.

 

“XDI consultant, so no.”

 

“You could have died!” said Dhariya to Seifer, and Quistis mentally rolled her eyes.

 

“Wouldn't have died.” He tightened his arm around Quistis's shoulders and gave Dhariya a somewhat flat look. “Had the best partner with me.”

 

Dhariya looked at Quistis with disfavor pratically oozing out of her pores, but managed to say, “Well... Good for you, then.”

 

Seifer grunted. Mercifully that was the last of the conversation and they got up to Seifer's room without further delay or interruption, and as soon as the door opened, Seifer went immediately to the bed and fell facefirst onto it. Quistis locked the door and took off her clothes, which smelled strongly of miasma and were pocked and pitted in places from sprays of acid. Seifer did not move while she undressed and when she came over to check on him, found that he was deeply asleep. So she took off his shoes, his clothes, and after seeing angry sores around his wrists and neck despite all her healing, took off his necklace and disguising bracelets too. Something thicker but less toxic than miasma had gotten stuck underneath the jewelry's chain links, so Quistis took them to the bathroom and rinsed them out. All things considered, she felt fairly good. Tired from the sudden burst of adrenaline and combat, but otherwise not as out of shape as she'd feared from a year of inactivity. Humming in her duotone voice, Quistis set the jewelry aside to dry and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She jumped at the sight of her face, which was... Decidedly not her own.

 

“ _No wonder no one recognized me,”_ thought Quistis, stunned, as she touched her flattened cheekbones and broad nose. With a thought the features shifted back to their usual positions and sizes, moving unnervingly under her skin like figures draped by a sheet. Her black-streaked hair went back to its usual blonde and lengthened, dropping down to brush her breasts instead of stopping at her collarbones. Quistis could not look away despite a sudden pulse of nausea. She had never seen her transformations before, only felt them. A weird shiver went down her spine and seemed to lift every hair on her body, and she couldn't help but touch the mirror as her eyebrows regrew before her stunned gaze and her eyes went from slit-pupiled to round again. If anything could drive home the fact that she was no longer who she'd been a year ago, this was it. 

 

“ _At least I didn't grow a tail.”_

 

After eating some ration chips made palatable with Dhariya's onion chutney, the weariness she always associated with a job well done finally set in. Though it was technically the afternoon still, Quistis turned off all the lights, enveloping the room in total darkness, and then went to sleep curled up against Seifer's side. Right before she dozed off, she noticed the rich amber and leather scents she associated with him starting to come back.

 

Vague dreams of liquid locomotion woke Quistis from slumber and immediately check her hands to make sure they hadn't turned into paws. The sudden surge of motion made Seifer jerk awake.

 

“Whuhhah?”

 

“Nothing,” whispered Quistis, clenching her hands at her sides. She rubbed her palms on her thighs and felt smooth skin instead of fur. When she wriggled a little, there was no tail trapped underneath her. Yet an unmistakable sense of _felinity_ remained, a sort of langorous restlessness that made Quistis want to get up and stretch. Seifer growled irritably and rolled onto his back, which made Quistis first look at him apologetically and then speculatively. By the light of the clock near the bed (7pm in the evening; she hadn't been sleeping long), Quistis saw that Seifer had kicked the blankets down to his waist, and it occurred to her that he had come close to dying today. If she hadn't been there to fight alongside him, he might have died either from the blue sage's surprise attacks or miasma inhalation. Quistis sidled up to Seifer, resting atop his arm in a comfortable way, and gently brushed the hair from his face. To her surprise Seifer half-snarled and jerked his head away.

 

“No,” he grumbled, sounding like a junior wanting five more minutes in bed.

 

Quistis couldn't help but chuckle. He cracked one eye open, still looking annoyed.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I just want to look at you.” She stroked his forehead again, which made him grumble and close his eyes. “I'm glad we came out of this alive.”

 

Seifer exhaled deeply, but otherwise did not react. Quistis traced the edge of his cheekbone and the line of his jaw, her fingertip catching slightly on day-old stubble. As she neared his chin, Seifer turned and kissed her fingertips. It was brusque as far as things went and he didn't even open his eyes, but the contact was enough to send a little spark fizzling down Quistis's fingertips and into her core, where it met the restlessness and began to make it smolder into something else. Mindful of Seifer's exhaustion and corresponding irritability, Quistis kissed him on the cheek and felt him inhale like he was trying to get closer to her in the laziest way possible.

 

Encouraged, she pressed more soft kisses along his cheek, his brow, and nuzzled against his neck. If he was really tired, he'd tell her to buzz off. But instead Seifer just sighed and tilted his head, letting her get at more of his neck. Quistis smiled and nipped the skin just below his ear, making him startle a little.

 

“What's gotten into you?” He murmured, sleepy still but sounding far from irritable.

 

“Nothing yet.”

 

Seifer chuckled. The arm she was resting on top of flexed and callused fingertips drew up her inner thigh, making her shiver. “Yeah? You're hopeful. I'm running on fumes here.”

 

“Then just lie back and rest.” Quistis started kissing down his neck, a sense of felinity making her feel more playful and wanton.

 

“Don't get pissed if I don't get up.”

 

“If something doesn't get up, I'm clearly losing my touch.”

 

Seifer chuckled. She felt him shift and a glance let her see he'd put one hand behind his head, a little smile on his sleepy face. She rolled her eyes and traced his pulse with the point of her tongue. He tasted salty with sweat and deliciously alive, a state that was more fragile than he would ever admit. Quistis slid her hand across his stomach and chest, imagining she could feel the slow beat of blood in his veins as she drew teasing circles up and down his body. Seifer exhaled and shifted, rolling closer to her. Every downward dip of her hand made his stomach tighten enticingly under her palm as he lifted his hips towards her touch, but not so much that he seemed desperate. In the dark, Quistis smiled, a terrible little idea making her nearly laugh.

 

She channeled her amusement into working up Seifer as best she knew; kissing the little weak spots on his neck and where his collarbone met his shoulder, lightly scratching his chest and teasing his nipples, and eventually stroking a deliberate line down along the muscles of his stomach. By the time she felt the softness of skin that never saw the light of day, Seifer was shifting restlessly under her touch, silent except for a light ragged edge to his breathing and the growing note of lust in his amber scent. Now resisting her own urge to rush ahead, Quistis slid her hand further down and laughed in quiet delight at how energetic one part of Seifer seemed to be. She drew her fingertips over his erection like she could memorize the shape of it by touch, enjoying the steel-wrapped-in-silk feel of his skin, and Seifer hissed as she drew up to the head, teased him with just the suggestion of a grip, and then drew her hand back down again. She did this over and over again until he was shifting with banked frustration.

 

But he didn't say anything still, and Quistis sat up a little to look at him. His eyes were still closed, but he was licking his lips, and the hand she was still resting on was squeezing her inner thigh, a clumsy attempt at either trying to turn her on or make her get on with it. When Quistis wrapped her hands around his shaft and squeezed, Seifer let out a breath that shook with desire, and the low moan she loved to hear from him eased from his lips at last.

 

Quistis got onto her knees and pushed the sheets to the foot of the bed, the better to see what she was doing to Seifer. The sight of him naked was enough to make Quistis sigh happily, but what filled her with satisfaction was the way his cock twitched in her hand, a pool of precum gleaming on the head. She pulled the foreskin down, the hardness of his cock slipping underneath her hand, and the slickness of Seifer's manifested desire dripped like honey down his shaft, gilding him inch by inch as Seifer moaned again. When Quistis reached the base of his cock, he lifted his hips toward her touch, straining so hard she thought he was going to hurt himself as another shuddering groan came out of him. He was definitely more awake than asleep now.

 

Quistis started to stroke him at a slow but deliberate pace, precum oozing down her fingers and palm with every motion. She watched him closely, both out of avid desire and out of a still terrible little interest. As Seifer began to writhe under her touch, getting noisier with every passing minute, Quistis leaned over him and immediately he turned toward her, kissing her neck and breasts with a hungry supplication that was anything but chaste. She let him kiss her lips, but when he tried to reach for her she firmly pressed his hand down, and her heart thrilled when he let her pin his wrist to the bed. It was so rare that she got to take total control like this, and for a long moment Quistis was tempted to let the natural conclusion play out. Her hips were aching with a fullness she wanted Seifer to feel, and the idea of climbing on top of him and riding him until they were both exhausted sounded so very good.

 

But...

 

Quistis kept stroking and kissing Seifer back, holding her focus as the flexing of his body against hers became more urgent and mindless. When Seifer broke their kiss to gasp for breath, she knew he was getting close. Anticipating his reaction nearly made her laugh again, but instead she kissed him on the nose and then abruptly let go of his cock. Seifer made a noise of outrage and for the first time his eyes opened. The firelit rings in his blue-green eyes literally flashed with pique.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Goodnight,” she said cheekily, and Seifer stared at her in towering incredulity.

 

“Don't you _dare!”_ Seifer half-shouted, sitting up. Quistis laughed. This was even funnier than she'd hoped.

 

“What? I'm tired too.” And though she wasn't sure that Seifer could see her, Quistis licked her hand clean of slick salt.

 

Seifer let out a string of Estharian swears that sounded delightfully vile before surging at her and pinning her to the bed. Quistis immediately started laughing even as she wrapped her legs around his waist and wriggled to be more underneath him.

 

“You ae going to regret this,” he said, his voice low and serious even as it shook with eagerness. He ran his hands down her sides and hips so hard that his fingertips left trails of heat in their wake, and Quistis was glad she'd decided not to wear any clothes after her shower. As Seifer settled himself against her with a rough decisiveness that made Quistis thrill inside, he threatened, “You are going to beg for mercy.”

 

“What happened to running on fumes?” Quistis asked innocently, wrapping her arms around his neck. Seifer growled, apparently past the point of making smart remarks, and started pressing into her. Every push and pull shocked new parts of Quistis into reveling in the joys of the present, rapidly disintegrating any kind of logical thought for a delightfully long time. Seifer's fumes were apparently more like a second wind and it seemed to take a very long time before he ran out of energy, though he never got around to making her beg for mercy like he'd promised. Quistis didn't mind. By the time they collapsed on the bed, too heated to bother with sheets, the light green light from the clock on the desk read that more than two hours had gone by.

 

The next time Quistis woke up, it was still dark. Seifer had gotten the blankets over them at some point in the night and was sleeping facedown with his head under the pillow again, and she was glad to note that he smelled much healthier than he had a few hours ago. His sleep was correspondingly deep; when she poked him in the arm he didn't even stir, and calling his name softly elicited no response either. So Quistis slipped out of bed, stretched her sleepy muscles, and turned on the lights low so she could make herself a cup of tea. After the day they'd had, it occurred to rereading the Blue Magic Tome seemed appropriate. Remembering the 'transmutation' that the blue sage had mentioned, Quistis flipped to a section of the tome that she vaguely recalled seeing the same term in. She sat herself at the desk, tea situated appropriately far from the precious book, and began to read.

 

“ _Upon acquiring our aether, it is necessary to give life unto the lifeless mist and purpose to that which has lost its own. Breath and intention will suffice to transmute this essence which, while dead, still remembers how it was to move with life.”_

 

That was the obvious text, written in ornate calligraphy over a picture of three blue-skinned people. The first and third figures were a darker blue than the central one and both bore characteristics of certain animals: a snake for one, a spider for the other. The central figure looked basically human except for the blue skin and held its arms up as if in supplication or like a child reaching out to its parents. Curling around the figures were lines that led out from the two larger figures like they were magnetic poles, and within them hidden text that shone like hyperbright pixels in Quistis's sight.

 

“ _Therefore, the aether responds to a strong will and a stronger mind, but it is limited in its utility as it disperses quickly without direction and requires a critical mass to be transmuted in the first place. It is therefore recommended that the aether be used to strengthen the weakest avatars, or eliminate those who are truly unfit.”_

 

Miasma. The words in the hidden text were flowery, but Quistis knew without a doubt that the Tome was talking about miasma. Quistis thought about how several times she had caught herself breathing without using the filter and how the enemy mage inside the base hadn't had one either. All conventional wisdom said Quistis should be dead or hurt, but she'd felt fine all day and even had energy to spare. At the time she'd assumed it was training that had kept her moving, but in the dark and quiet, Quistis now started to wonder if she had been pulling energy from the supposedly toxic air. Remembering how easily her ears had appeared and been pushed away, Quistis idly wondered if she was moving toward a more Terran genetic state rather than an unstable and monstrous one. That would be better... In theory, anyway. At least with the monster shapes, Quistis knew what to expect but all she knew of Terrans was that their skin was blue, they had claws, and apparently an agenda to take over the world. The part about eliminating those who were unfit seemed to match the miasma's tendency to shred the lungs of whoever breathed it... Whoever wasn't a blue sage, anyway.

 

“ _Other blue sages have to know about this, otherwise they could have chosen any number of other methods to cause terror in New Esthar. Bombs would be cheaper and have high, predictable body counts. Poison in the water would work too. It seems far too flashy to use Beasts... Which means there has to be a point. Why Beasts, above all else? What can Beasts do that nothing else can?”_

 

Without more information, Quistis couldn't come to anything resembling a conclusion. It occurred to her that SeeD might be assigned to get to the bottom of this matter, and since she was the only blue mage in the organization as far as she was aware of, that meant she'd probably have an assignment as soon as she went back in about six days. So Quistis turned on Seifer's terminal and logged in to her SeeD mailbox in case Squall had sent her anything in advance.

 

/\/\/\

 

EMERGENCY

 

MULTIPLE LUNAR BEAST INCURSION IN NEW ESTHAR

 

ALL SEEDS ARE TO REPORT TO OUTPOST IMMEDIATELY FOR DEPLOYMENT

 

ALL MISSIONS ARE SUSPENDED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

 

FAILURE TO REPORT WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION

 

/\

 

EMERGENCY

 

All SeeDs are to report to the nearest staging point for immediate deployment. All communication is to be directed to Commander Leonhart.

 

FAILURE TO REPORT WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE DISCIPLINARY ACTION

 

/\

 

EMERGENCY

 

THE OUTPOST HAS BEEN DESTROYED

 

All SeeDs are to report to the Western Gate of the Presidential Palace until further notice. Refer all injured to the nearest state hospital.

 

/\

 

ATTENTION

 

The Outpost has been destroyed beyond repair. All active missions remain suspended without authorization from Commander Leonhart. No SeeD is to leave Esthar without authorization from Commander Leonhart. Until further notice, report to the Western Gate of the Presidential Palace and scan ID into personnel lift to gain access into the temporary base. Funeral services will be 3 April at 1000.

 

/\/\/\

 

The outpost had been _destroyed?_ There were scheduled funeral services?

 

Quistis's heart seemed to stop. She checked the timestamp on the emails: the first had been sent while she and Seifer had been fighting the Manaconduar and the other two had come while she and Seifer had been “resting”. Oh god. Quistis swallowed, but her mouth was too dry and she nearly started coughing. It wasn't the disciplinary action she was worried about, though she was sure it would be bad. No, it was what people would say and what they expected of her. _Where were you,_ people would ask. _What were you doing?_ _Why didn't you answer the calls? You checked in when you came into the country. You should have been at the outpost. What was more important than your duty?_

 

Because Quistis _did_ have a duty to SeeD. She had been running around the world to find out about herself on SeeD's money. She had been able to attain her skills and strength because of SeeD training. She'd been able to escape from a horrible home life because SeeD had offered an alternative. And when their base had been under attack, when her peers had been fighting and dying, she'd been getting her brains screwed out instead of standing with the people who made her who she was. Sudden self-loathing nearly made Quistis want to vomit.

 

One thing was for certain. She had to check in now. Failing to appear when one review of a SeeD roster would show her to be definitively in Esthar would be as good as a formal desertion. Immediately Quistis started packing her things, her mind tight with unhappy possibilities and half-excuses that fell apart under casual examination. As she was stuffing the last of her clothes into her bag, a subtle slither of sheets made her glance over her shoulder.

 

“What are you doing?” Seifer asked, propping himself up on his arms.

 

“The outpost was destroyed,” said Quistis, and speaking the words aloud sent a weird numbness throughout her body. It felt real now, as did all the horrid possibilities of the future. “I have to go back.”

 

Seifer rubbed his eyes. “Why?”

 

Why? WHY?!

 

“Because I already missed an emergency call and if I don't go back now, it'll be my job.”

 

“So?”

 

Quistis resisted the urge to throw her bag at him. “So I can't just _leave_ them, Seifer.”

 

“Why not?” He asked, eyes cracking open as he warmed to the subject. But instead of charming, he sounded irritatingly certain as he said, “What's back there for you? Missions and more missions. No more blue magic research. No time for anything you actually want.”

 

“I owe them!” Why didn't he understand that? “They need me, Seifer. What if blue mages attacked them too?”

 

“SeeD doesn't _need_ anybody,” said Seifer, bitterness coloring his voice. “How quick did I get burned?”

 

“That was different,” said Quistis, a hot flash of guilt flushing her face at the same time as temper.

 

“No, it wasn't,” said Seifer, sitting up and glaring at her. “It was still a loss of one SeeD. The gears kept turning without me. They'll turn without you too.”

 

He was so _dense._ “If I don't go back, people will come looking for me. They'll ask why I wasn't there. If they find out I was with you, then we'll both be in trouble.”

 

“Not me,” said Seifer, and when Quistis glared at him he said, “I can't get in worse trouble than I am already. Face it, Quistis, if you go back now there's only going to be problems. If you don't... The XDI's always looking for asskickers. I'll talk to Eos. And you can still—”

 

“No, Seifer!” Quistis jumped to her feet, all but ablaze with fury. “I've told you before, don't push me—”

 

“I am not pushing,” said Seifer with the careful enunciation of someone trying not to lose his temper. “But I think you're rushing into trouble you don't need. Not just with questions, but with the whole job. You've spent the last year becoming your own woman. If you go back, that's all to go away.”

 

“I know what being in SeeD is like, Seifer. You're not telling me anything I don't know.”

 

“So you want that again, then?” Seifer asked, his temper cracking. Gesturing angrily he said, “You did sixty missions in _two years_ , which means you barely had time to sleep or scratch your ass.”

 

“I won't be doing anything so aggressive,” she said, realizing he might be worried about her. “In fact, I'll probably be going into administration—”

 

“You'll what?” If anything, Seifer sounded angrier.

 

“I've always wanted to teach again—”

 

“So you're going to shut yourself up in the Garden where I'll never see you again?!”

 

Her heart sank. “You'd still see me, Seifer. I'd make time to get away and—”

 

“Bullshit!” Seifer snapped, pointing at her. “You'll get sucked into everything because you're the best person for every job, and whatever you don't volunteer for, Leonhart or Xu will assign you to. The reason you got a whole year off is because you never took a single vacation when you were an active SeeD, so desk job or not, you're going into the Garden and _never coming out again.”_

 

“No!” Quistis struggled to keep her composure. “This is different. I don't have anything to prove to anyone. I'm not afraid of what I can do. I'll make time for us, and for what I want—”

 

“SeeD doesn't need you,” Seifer insisted. “It needs a body and a trained mind, and anybody'll do. Don't go back, Quistis. Yeah, I'm pushing for it. I'm... Fuck, I'm _begging_ you, okay? Don't go back. It's going to kill some part of you just being there, and in admin, years are going to go by before you have the time to wonder what the hell happened. For fuck's sake, how long as has Xu been there, huh?”

 

She had to go back. Quistis wanted to say this, but Seifer's words hit weak points she hadn't known she had. She _did_ have a tendency to focus totally on work. And even if she didn't go on missions anymore, she'd still find something to totally engross herself in; it was the nature of how she worked on things. If she got into administration, there was no built-in expiration date for her service either: it was why so many older SeeDs who wanted to stay in the Garden tried to become instructors or trainers once their 20th birthdays came near. And Xu... She was 31 now. She had come to the Garden at age 12 and had become a SeeD at 17. She saw her family once a year for exactly a week, and two of those days were devoted to travel.

 

“I... I still need to go back,” Quistis whispered, looking down at the floor. “Because if I don't... And people come looking for me, and they ask questions... They'll ask them of my friends too. How much did they know about us? Why didn't they report their suspicions? And Xu... I could never just disappear on her. After all she's done for me, it wouldn't be right.”

 

Seifer was silent at that. When Quistis looked up at him, he was staring down at the sheets like he could read a script off them.

 

Then Seifer did something odd; he twitched, like something had poked him in the ear, and glared at something in the corner of the room. She saw his lips part in an undeniable snarl. He whispered something.

 

“Seifer?”

 

He sat up, a pop of shock disappearing underneath a tense but less furious look. “Look... Is it going to make a difference if you go back one hour from now or not?”

 

“...I suppose not,” said Quistis, not sure what had caused his sudden change in attitude.

 

“Then come here,” he said, holding out his arms. When Quistis looked at him warily, he gave her a slightly sardonic look and said, “Let me say goodbye. I'm not leaving things when we're both pissed.”

 

She had a pretty good idea of how he was planning to change her mind, but the sudden realization that she had no idea when she was going to see him again made Quistis come over to the bed and sit down. With every step she took, Seifer's temper seemed to decrease until he actually looked contrite, and by the time she settled into his embrace it was like they'd never fought at all. Rather, that she'd made her decision a long time ago and he was just... Getting used to it.

 

“I love you,” she murmured, hugging him tightly.

 

“If... Hm.” She could almost feel him choosing not to be an asshole. “I love you too.”

 

“I think we could make it work,” she said as Seifer pulled her down to lie alongside him. Curling against him, she said, “We have our encrypted accounts. I'll schedule time off. And you wanted a boat, didn't you? You could sail in and sail out. It wouldn't be so different than what we have now. And that's not so bad, right?”

 

He stroked her hair and said nothing. Quistis closed her eyes. She knew there was only one answer that would make Seifer happy, but it was one she couldn't give.

 

“Quistis...”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Let's say we do that,” he said, still stroking her hair. “You know that's going to be way riskier than what we're doing now, right? All it takes is one nosy Trepie wanting to see if your mysterious boyfriend is good enough for you, and then it comes down to running away or hiding bodies.”

 

“...Why worry about things that haven't happened yet?”

 

“You mean like SeeD needing you for an investigation only _you_ can handle?”

 

Quistis sat up, nettled. “Don't. Not when you're trying to make up.”

 

Seifer held his hands up in a placating way, but the stubborn look on his face was far from peaceable. “We were going to have this talk sooner or later. Even in the best case, I'd only have you for five more days and now you want to go back early.”

 

“I have to.”

 

“Yeah... I know you believe that.”

 

Quistis pushed off Seifer's chest, resisting the urge to slap him instead. “For someone who doesn't want to fight, you're going out of your way to annoy me.”

 

“And for someone who says she loves me, you're running the fuck away as fast as possible!” he shot back, making Quistis's jaw drop in shock. Immediately Seifer shook his head. “No, shit. That came out wrong. I just...”

 

“No, that was very clear,” said Quistis, her breath coming short with growing ire. “I'm so sorry, Seifer. I can't be that kind of clingy, dependent girl for you.”

 

“That's not what I meant!”

 

“I have to go.”

 

“No!”

 

“Or what?” Quistis asked, her voice sharpening. “You're going to restrain me? Tie to me a chair, maybe, until I see things your way?”

 

“No! Fuck! What the hell—” Seifer reached out for her, but Quistis immediately slid off the bed and went for her bag. “Quistis, come on!”

 

“I'll see you in a few months, Seifer,” she said, snatching her duffel off the floor. As she jabbed the button to open the door, she snapped, “And I'll contact you when it's safe.”

 

“For fuck's sake, Quistis! Get back here and talk like an adult—”

 

“When you start listening like one!” She shot back, and left. She did not exactly run, but she was still all the way on the first floor when the door slid open again. Quistis ignored the shouts of _“Scarlet! Scarlet, damn it, just listen to me”_ and went straight for the boardinghouse's door, clenching her teeth against the aches in her jaw that meant fangs were trying to form. As she neared the double doors, they abruptly slid open and Quistis nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw someone on the other side.

 

“Come on,” said the person, glancing around. He was wearing an Estharian robe that covered him from head to toe, but the fabric hung over a distinct short and powerful frame, and armored gloves peeked out from underneath the robe's sleeves. She saw him slip a strangely glittering card into his pocket as he said, “Let's go.”

 

“Zell, what—”

 

“Look, it's complicated, but we need you back right now.”

 

“Fine,” said Quistis, simultaneously dismayed and relieved: SeeD _did_ need her, not just another body. Pulling up the hood of her own Estharian robe, she said, “Let's go.”

 

“SCARLET!”

 

“Uhh,” said Zell, and then “Gahhh,” as Quistis grabbed him by the arm and towed him out of the boardinghouse. In the street beyond was a T-Board, which made Quistis look at Zell strangely. He threw up his hands. “What? They're fast! And they can definitely carry two.”

 

“Has your steering ability improved?”

 

Zell huffed.  _“Yes._ I'll have you know, the only bathrooms I've gone into are the ones I've meant to go for.”

 

Quistis chuckled. It was a little forced, but better than thinking about Seifer running down the hall after her in some kind of temper. A second later both she and Zell jumped as furious pounding on the other side of the door rocked the air.

 

“ _Why isn't he coming out? Oh... Martial law must still be in effect. Zell probably used that black keycard I saw to get around the lock.”_

 

“Let's go,” said Quistis, now ignoring a surge of guilt.

 

“You sure you don't want to take care of that?” Zell asked, pointing at the door.

 

“I'm too mad to do anything about it right now,” said Quistis, walking toward the T-Board. “And I really don't want to have a screaming match where everyone can hear me. How did you find me, anyway?”

 

“We checked your logins,” he said, jogging ahead of her to get onto the T-Board first. “Sit down in front and hold your bag. It'll be easier for me to steer from the back.”

 

So Quistis did. The T-Board was narrow, but not uncomfortably so; it was more unnerving when Zell stepped on and the entire thing dipped and wobbled. Quistis reminded herself that in addition to T-Boarding, Zell had grown up surfing and wind-surfing in Balamb, and if anyone could be trusted not to dump her on the ground at high speeds, it was him. As the hover motor lifted them both into the air, the pounding on the other side of the door grew even more furious. It was enough to make Quistis start to doubt just a little, but there was a backwards tilt that made her tense up and abruptly she was moving, the ground skimming a bare foot below while the scenery rushed by. Quistis hugged her bag and shut her eyes. This was the right choice. She had to believe it was. If not...

 

“ _I'm needed. SeeD needs me. They need me.”_

 

“ _She needs me,”_ echoed an anguished whisper from a year back, making Quistis flinch as she remembered the pained conviction in Seifer's voice. It rang uncomfortably close now, making her clutch her bag even tighter. This was the right choice... It had to be.

 

It had to be.

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I am so proud of that last little bit with SeeD apparently being Q's Ultimecia.

 

/\/\/\/\/\

 


	44. Chapter 44

She'd left.

 

She'd _left._

 

Seifer stared at the doors, which had weathered his angry pounding with a stoicism that made him want to burn them down, but just the thought of summoning fire made him feel nauseous and on top of his already fluctuating emotions, it was nearly too much. Nearly. Air rushed in and out of his body, too fast to be turned into words other than curses. His head was pounding with stunned dismay, and mad oscillations of pounding fury and knifelike pain swooped from his stomach to his chest and back again. She'd left. Quistis had left. She was _leaving_ things like this, when they had no idea when they were going to see each other again, when they had no plans about what she was going to do with her life... She didn't even fucking understand what he was actually saying to her! 'Don't make my decisions for me, Seifer, don't push me'—BITCH! Seifer knew better than to scream the word in Quistis's face because that was a sure way to lose an eye (and he wouldn't mean it when he was calm, not that she'd ever believe him), but he _thought_ it with a towering indignant rage that kept getting bigger and bigger the longer Seifer was alone. He had said very clearly on multiple occasions that he'd only wanted her to be true to herself, but she kept running back to what was familiar instead of _real._ Fuck!

 

“ _What if she never wanted this? What if I was just a distraction? Some kind of thrill to feel like a bad girl before she went back to being SeeD's woman? Fucking_ hell!

 

“ _No, no. No. That's not it. She's proud. She's just... She's a fucking hero and the Prodigal SeeD and people just_ adore _her and she thinks that's real value. She just... She thinks that's all she has. She thinks that's all she_ is. _She didn't learn a goddamn thing on sabbatical, is the problem! And that doesn't have a damn thing to do with how she feels about me, that's all_ her _issue.”_

 

Yet the doubts remained. In their line of work, in their lives, there was no guarantee that two people would ever meet again and make things right. Even if it was just cursory, it was better to say “sorry” and “I forgive you”. For a SeeD, “we'll talk later” was essentially a 'fuck you' and Seifer ground his teeth until pain flared through his jaw. Had Quistis known that? If she had, would she have cared? Fucking Quistis and her total lack of dating history! If she'd ever been with anyone else before, she would have known not to leave things so bad. It wouldn't have taken much to let him know the love was still there. He would have settled for a peck on the cheek or squeezing his hand. Even just a few more minutes of lying together would have been enough.

 

In Seifer's periphery, Ultimecia leaned against the wall and fanned her wings as she examined her long purple talons. Always the witness to his misfortune, she seemed bored by the current situation.

 

“Good riddance,” she murmured, making Seifer clench his hands. “You could never be great as long as you shackled yourself to her and her concerns.”

 

“I don't need to be _great,_ you fucking cunt, I need—”

 

“Oh yes, you need to be _yourself.”_ Ultimecia chuckled. “As does she.”

 

“Shut up!” God, he was going to stab himself in the brain until he found the part that hallucinated her. It'd be better than her pulling everything good out of his head and twisting it against him. “If you'd just shut up, then—”

 

“ _She_ can't hear or see me,” said Ultimecia, making Seifer hit the door again. His hands were throbbing with repeated impacts, but not enough to distract him from her voice. “You can't blame this latest disaster on me. Besides, I am not wrong. She _does_ have a much closer relationship with this Xu person. She has relied on her for years. It is only natural that Quistis loves her mo—”

 

“SHUT UP!” Seifer shouted, whirling angrily on the hallucination. She vanished as soon as he turned, her image replaced by the landlady's startled daughter. Seifer dragged his hand over his mouth, furious and mortified that someone had seen him apparently yelling at nothing. He was not going crazy. He was just tired. Ultimecia always appeared when he was tired.

 

“I... Uh...” Zorya swallowed. “I'm sorry. About whatever happened.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

Zorya flinched, her gaze dropping to the floor. She was a very skinny girl—well, young woman—and in some kind of ill health that Dhariya swore was related to the Lunar Cry. In any case the sight of her made Seifer all kinds of annoyed, mostly because before Quistis had arrived, she tended to hover around the edges of Seifer's perception whenever he was home, pining so pointedly that it made him want to throw something at her. He _hated_ people who just couldn't step up and be honest...!

 

“Umm... Well...” She wrung her hands a little. “You're... A government employee, right? Which means you can be outside in lockdown?”

 

“Yeah. Why?”

 

“The food is running low and since only government employees are allowed out, could you pick up our allotment this one time? I mean... We don't know when it'll lift, so...”

 

Seifer normally would have declined—he was no one's errand boy—but food was food and rather abruptly he realized how hungry he was. Shit, no wonder he'd flown off the handle so quick. Fucking hell.

 

“Yeah, I'll go,” said Seifer. A walk sounded like a good idea right now. A really fast walk or maybe even a run to burn off the upset still burning his veins. Raking his hand through his hair, he said, “Look, just... Don't tell anyone you heard me yelling, okay? I'm not crazy.”

 

“I know.” She hesitated and then added, “You're under a lot of stress. Thanks for keeping us safe.”

 

“It's just the job.”

 

“I know, but...” She looked at him shyly. “I mean... I understand that. It seems like maybe... Miss Scarlet doesn't?”

 

“Don't go there,” Seifer said warningly, and immediately Zorya dropped her gaze to the floor. “Ever. I'm leaving in five minutes and I'll be back in an hour.”

 

A trip back upstairs saw Seifer back into multilayered, old-fashioned Estharian clothes that hid his knives and his still stormy expression. Before he left, Seifer automatically touched his neck and wrists to make sure his disguising tools were in place (it would be just his luck to get pinched now, when he was too pissed to think straight and still feeling off from hard fire use yesterday) and ignored how Quistis's scent still lingered in his room. She'd left. And she was never coming back, at least not to here. It took too long to travel from Balamb to Esthar and anyway, it would be safer for her precious job if she just stayed away. Seifer exhaled hard, trying to get his temper under control. He'd really planned on having six more days—well, now five—to make Quistis change her mind. Why couldn't she see how much better off she was without the Garden? Couldn't she tell how much happier she was? How much stronger? How much more herself, rather than some brainless order-taker? If she just got it through her fucking head that he wanted her to be herself more than anything, she'd make the obvious choice and they wouldn't be fighting right now!

 

“ _I'll see you in a few months, Seifer. I'll contact you when it's safe.”_

 

It was pitiful. It was a goddamn bone. It was definitely a 'fuck you' but it was all he had. Pathetic.

 

Zorya keyed the code to let Seifer out (and how had Quistis left? Some blue magic fuckery?), gave Seifer a hover cart for the heavy and dense allotment, and directions to the food depot. The walk was just short enough that taking a hover would have been reasonable, except those were all still down because of the martial law in effect. Multiple patrols of soldiers with what looked and sounded like radiation counters walked the streets, sweeping high and low with an alertness born of suppressed fear. None of them paid Seifer any mind, clearly worrying more about Beasts. Normally so many soldiers around would have made Seifer wary, but between his heavy disguise, his perfectly legal and airtight reason for being out, and their focus on other things, there was nothing to worry about.

 

Well, except for Ultimecia. She was floating around behind him again, teasing his paranoia with flickers of her robe and her blue-black feathers. After essentially making him scream at someone for no reason, he could feel the satisfaction rolling off her and mercifully, keep her quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to himself. At least concentrating on keeping his head down made it so he couldn't think about goddamned Quistis and her need for the Garden. A need that was evidently greater than her freedom, or him. Fuck.

 

There were two clerks behind the counter when Seifer arrived, both of them looking somewhat tense as they watched a feed on the rightmost wall. When Seifer entered, they both jumped as though they were expecting monsters to come with him.

 

“I'm here for the allotment for Dhariya Sennat,” said Seifer, taking his identification chipcard out of his pocket and handing it to the nearest clerk. As he put his hand into his pocket for the umpteenth time, his bracelet snagged on a loose seam and Seifer impatiently tugged it free. The bracelet came apart instead, slithering off his wrist and hitting the floor with a loud clatter. For a second Seifer blinked at it, not comprehending what had happened, and then a thunderbolt of shock seemed to freeze all the blood in his body.

 

“ _Why didn't it ever occur to me that these things could break?!”_

 

Was he exposed? He hadn't bothered with any kind of head covering today, so if the enchantments stopped working, he was fucked. Swiftly Seifer snatched the bracelet off the floor, not sure why it had come off but knowing it needed to touch his skin to work. To his horror it came apart in his hand like he'd tried to grab a fistful of beetles, and Seifer scrambled for the scales like the damn things had legs. Immediately he saw why they had started to fall apart; the links holding them together had corroded, probably because he'd been fighting in mid-to-hevay red haze over the past few months and yesterday, hadn't had armor on to keep them from the air. Fuck. Fuck!

 

“Allotment looks like 50 boxes for the month,” said the clerk, her eyes on the screen. Handing Seifer back his chipcard without looking at him, she said, “You gonna need a cart for that or did you bring your own?”

 

Shit. Could she see him? Did she know who he was? Seifer looked up at the clerk, who was now looking at him in puzzlement... And nothing else.

 

“You okay down there?” She asked, cocking her head. Why wasn't she freaking out? Surely she recognized Seifer “Mad Knight” Almasy, wanted for 10 million gil in Galbadia and the harbinger of doom for Esthar? It wasn't like people didn't know what he looked like...

 

...except...

 

“ _Come to think of it, I haven't seen any wanted posters for myself in Esthar, both physically or online. Lots of Estharians are blond and green-eyed too, and my scar's a lot fainter than it used to be. Maybe... Maybe... They just don't recognize me.”_

 

The idea seemed absolutely impossible. How could people not recognize him when he lived his every waking moment in skittish paranoia? Yet the more Seifer thought about it, the more likely it seemed. No one had seen him in real life for over a year, and every picture of him taken from back then might as well have been of a stranger: singleminded, suffused with cruelty, and gaunt with zealotrous fatigue. The camera footage from Dollet that had originally blown his cover was grainy too and without any new developments in the hunt for him, the images had dropped out of circulation. And today Seifer was dark-eyed with exhaustion, slightly scruffy from skipping a day of shaving, and he knew his hair looked darker than normal because he hadn't washed it since yesterday morning. And he wasn't wearing his long coat or his navy and white shirt—in fact, his Estharian clothes were brown and cream-colored, so...

 

So...

 

“I said, you okay? And what are those things?” She tensed up. “If those are cockroaches, I will scream.”

 

“ _Fuck it, I'm gonna brazen it out. They'll realize something's wrong if I start running for it now and I'm not giving them any reason to look at me twice.”_

 

“It's just some jewelry that fell apart,” said Seifer, scooping up all the scales and sticking them into his pocket. Burying his fingers in the pile of cool metal they made, he said, “And I've got my own cart.”

 

“Great,” said the clerk, and Seifer nearly fell over with relief as the clerks immediately started counting out the ration boxes. Every instinct screamed for him to run, but logic and a certain steel-balled spirit made Seifer remain as relaxed as possible, both to avoid suspicion and also so he could break into a sprint if he absolutely had to. It was not easy in the least. This was like holding an angry snake or a live grenade. It was standing in front of a hungry T-Rexaur and hoping you were right in its blind spot.

 

“What's it look like out there?” The clerk asked, glancing up at him as she counted. Seifer immediately turned so she could only see a sliver of the side of his face. If she recognized him, she would push the emergency alert under the counter and he would be toast.

 

“Pretty calm,” he said, which was the exact opposite of how he felt.

 

“I heard the casualties were up to 500,” said the second clerk solemnly. “Mostly civilians too.”

 

“That's just wrong,” said the first clerk, shaking her head. “We're supposed to be safe down here. Some haven!”

 

They kept counting out boxes. To keep his face turned away from them, Seifer looked at the screen on the wall, which was of course running some kind of program about the attacks. It was not Laguna Loire on the screen, but Zolomon Ghan. Seifer hadn't paid much attention to Estharian politics but he didn't care much for Ghan. He seemed too oily, both politically and physically, and there was something irritatingly patronizing about his voice.

 

“—tragedy since the Lunar Cry,” he was saying, and Seifer clenched his jaw. “And it has become glaringly obvious that we cannot count on SeeD alone to take care of us, not when they themselves are unable to guard what should be their stronghold.”

 

A picture flashed on the screen of a ruined structure and Seifer sucked a breath through his teeth when he saw a broken emblem of Garden system on the ground. He'd gotten so caught up in fighting with Quistis that he hadn't remembered her telling him about the base's destruction until now. No wonder she'd been so frantic. Behind him, one of the clerks tsked.

 

“You'd think one of them would sell their soul to a devil for some basic defense,” he said. Any other time Seifer would have snapped about how that wasn't how Guardian Forces worked, but he was too stunned by the sight of the ruined outpost. If Quistis had been there...

 

“New Esthar has given us time to collect ourselves, but we cannot hide away forever,” Ghan said solemnly as he reappeared on the screen. “This is why I am calling on President Loire and the Senate to revisit the Rebirth Initiative, which funds the construction of bunds offshore to relocate our citizens. We deserve to not merely escape a crisis, but to truly start anew.”

 

“Pft, like they'd go for that,” muttered one of the clerks. “They already paid for this fancy tomb, after all.”

 

“Our resources are stretched thin. We are on the verge of overcrowding and starvation. With the Rebirth Initiative, we will be able to harvest the bounty of the sea and gather energy from not only our renewable resources, but the caverns of subterranean oil that are currently blocked by poorly-excavated residential areas. We have the means to return to the sun, if only our President will unite with us in this vision and bring us to greatness once more.”

 

“Okay, 50 boxes,” said the clerk, setting them in stacks on the counter. Each box was about the size and weight of a standard red masonry brick and came in stacks of 10. As the second clerk attached the extra boxes with a couple of long plastic ties, the first clerk bid Seifer to sign the rations out and said, “Take care of yourself out there. I'd stay away from any of the lift tunnels; who knows if more Beasts might come down?”

 

Seifer nodded tersely and loaded the heavy ration bricks onto the hovercart without comment. And as the clerks turned to watch the broadcast again, Seifer exhaled in relief and moved to leave. This wasn't the end of things by a long shot but—

 

“Hey.”

 

“ _No, no, no, things were going so well—”_

 

“You look kinda familiar,” said the second clerk, frowning at Seifer's face. “Have you been here before?”

 

“I've helped the landlady carry stuff before,” Seifer lied glibly.

 

“Oh, that must be it,” said the second clerk, but now the first was looking at him. And her frown seemed more definite.

 

“What's your name?” She tapped the screen. “You just signed an X.”

 

“Yeah, my boss told me to do that,” said Seifer, which wasn't untrue. “My citizenship papers haven't come through yet.”

 

“You're an immigrant?” The clerk looked surprised.

 

“Barely,” said Seifer: if his real face was showing, then he looked _very_ northern Estharian. “My family moved out because of Adel and just moved back in.”

 

“You picked a heck of a time to move.”

 

“Yeah, well, Trabia wasn't doing it for us after last year,” Seifer said, and both clerks nodded sympathetically.

 

“What's the world coming to these days?” The second clerk sighed mournfully. “Monsters falling from the sky and burrowing through the ground, and sorceresses and crazy knights...”

 

“Don't forget time turning inside out,” said the first clerk.

 

“Yeah!” The second clerk sighed again. “It's getting to be there's nowhere safe in the world anymore.”

 

“ _Oh shut up,”_ thought Seifer irritably as he turned to go. “You _can go home and not worry about people trying to take your head off while you're sleeping._ You _can date anyone you like without worrying that you're going to get them killed._ You _don't have a Bitch Witch commenting on your every move.”_

 

“We never had these problems when we kept to ourselves,” said the second clerk and the first one hummed in agreement. “I tell you, all these problems started when we let those SeeDs in a year ago. How else did the Mad Knight know to get access to Lunatic Pandora, huh?”

 

Seifer stopped moving toward the door, unable to stop himself from giving the clerks a look of pure bafflement. He had gotten his information about Lunatic Pandora straight from Ultimecia, and from time to time he still dreamed about the structure's control panel. Granted, it was usually a body horror nightmare about how he couldn't stop himself from calling down the Cry, but still. The clerks saw him looking and immediately realized they had an audience.

 

“They were all in it together,” said the second clerk firmly. “The Gardens were after our technology, so they sent in a group of SeeDs to infiltrate us and then they sent information about Lunatic Pandora to the Mad Knight so he could call down the Lunar Cry. Then when everthing was going crazy, _of course_ we gave the 'premier combat specialists' access to whatever they wanted to _supposedly_ keep Adel from coming back and taking over!”

 

“So you don't think the Sorceress told the Mad Knight to call down the Cry, then?” Seifer asked. He knew he should leave, but what he was hearing was so stupid and so far from the truth that it was practically irresistible. Was this honestly what civilians thought with the limited information they had available?

 

“ _Come to think of it, nobody knows who Ultimecia is... They think Time Compression happened because of Adel and Edea facing off, not because of the Bitch Witch. Guess a familiar stupidity's easier to swallow than a fantastic truth.”_

 

“Why would she want another rival around?” The second clerk fired off with the easy conviction of someone who'd thought about this subject a lot. “She wouldn't. And that's why the Mad Knight disappeared for a such a long time, you know, he acted with SeeD instead of with her, so she punished him by stuffing him into a time hole.”

 

“And that's why he disappeared after Time Compression,” said Seifer, just to be clear, but the second clerk was nodding like he'd solved a particularly difficult equation. “How do you explain him appearing six months later, then?”

 

“Easy! She's dead, so she obviously couldn't keep him in there anymore.”

 

Seifer laughed, which made the second clerk glare. “Look,” Seifer said, unable to help himself. “It's a cute theory. But the Mad Knight was 100% rolled. If he had any ability to control what he did, do you really think he would have fired on Trabia Garden?”

 

“That's assuming he wasn't told to do it by _Balamb_ Garden, where he originally came from,” said the first clerk pointedly. “Besides, he was trained as a mercenary. He would have done it no matter what.”

 

“No,” said Seifer firmly. “SeeDs are raised with standards. There are some things you just don't do.”

 

The first clerk scoffed. “If any of those people had real principles, they would have become soldiers.”

 

Seifer's eye twitched. He had encountered some of these holier-than-thou, know-it-all, silly-civvie types a long time ago as a Garden cadet, and just as he had wanted to before, he wanted to strangle somebody now. Alas, he could not burn this particular stupidity down to the ground like it deserved, so Seifer forced a laugh and made himself leave. If staying still despite the total conviction of imminent death had been hard, this was nearly as much so. There were many worse things someone could be than a killer for hire. A rapist, for example. A child molestor. A serial murderer. And any authority figure who abused their power to cover petty and massive crimes. A killer for hire always knew when to stop, damn it, they weren't _sick,_ but it was always easier for the civilians to blame mercenaries rather than admit they were ruled by and lived alongside people who were way more dangerous.

 

A niggling sense that he should be doing something else made Seifer walk back to the boardinghouse a little more quickly than he'd left, and as soon as he neared the building, he winced when he saw Eos waiting by the doors. She was in full armor and he was familiar enough with her body language by now to know that she was pissed.

 

“Where the fuck were you?” She demanded as he came up. “And where the fuck is she?”

 

“Good morning to you too.”

 

“X, I have been up all night. I do not have time for this. Where is Scarlet?”

 

Seifer huffed. “We...”

 

“Well?”

 

“We broke up,” said Seifer, figuring the lie would shut Eos up and buy Quistis some space. The more security she had, the better for them... Right? This wasn't a real breakup... Just a fight...

 

Eos stared at him. The front section had been pushed back over the top of her head, so her wide-eyed, tight-lipped look of growing fury was very obvious. Without warning she punched him hard in the arm.

 

“OW!”

 

“You couldn't have waited until I did my damn debriefing!”

 

“I didn't do it on purpose!” Seifer rubbed his arm. She'd punched him in armored gloves. _Ow._

 

“It doesn't matter!” Eos shouted, taking another swing at him. Seifer dodged as Eos ranted, “Everybody's losing their minds about tunnel failure and without her information, we're not going to be tracking anything else! Including guilty parties!”

 

“You don't need her,” Seifer retorted, pushing the call button on the door. “I was there for the initial attacks too. Anything you need to ask her, you can ask me.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Eos folded her arms, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, X! When did you have time to turn into a blue magic expert? I am amazed! Can you tell me, professor, how long one of those man-monsters hold any particular shape?”

 

“Er—”

 

“Do they have any weaknesses?”

 

“Uh—”

 

“Do you have any insight into their ideology as to why they might think this is a good idea?”

 

“Okay, okay! You've made your point!”

 

“Hello?” It was Zorya. Damn it. How many times did she have to hear him screaming his head off today?

 

“I've got the food,” he said shortly.

 

“Oh, alright.” And the doors opened. Seifer pushed the hovercart inside, Eos on his tail. Zorya was waiting inside, hovering anxiously as was her wont.

 

“Why'd you do a stupid thing like break up, anyway?” She demanded. “That girl was hot, had combat smarts, and she took you home when you were drained of fire. You struck gold. What happened?”

 

“Difference of opinion.”

 

“Oh, _that's_ enlightening,” said Eos as Seifer handed the cart to Zorya. “You didn't stick your dick in someone else, did you?”

 

“No!”

 

“She didn't realize she was too good for you, did she?”

 

“No, she—hey!”

 

“Did she find out she was a lesbian?” Eos's eyes gleamed as Zorya walked away with the food. “Please say she did. If she likes girls even a little, I will _ruin_ her for men.”

 

“No, she's not—aren't you old, Eos?”

 

“Twenty-four is not old.”

 

“It's still creepy.”

 

“Love between women is a beautiful thing, and I will to bring her to the side of violets and pussy,” said Eos, at last startling a laugh out of Seifer. As soon as he started chuckling, she smiled wearily and sighed. “Well, gear up. It's all hands on deck today. And I _guess_ I could take your statement about what happened in the depot. It'll help convince some of the eggheads we need to be looking elsewhere.”

 

Seifer hesitated. His bracelets were broken or about to break and the XDI had cameras everywhere.

 

“I'm still feeling like shit,” he deprecated, but Eos held up her hand.

 

“I know, I know,” she said, and reached into her standard-issue backpack. To Seifer's surprise, she pulled out a fancy bottle in blue glass and said, “Drink some of this and you'll be spitting fire out of every hole.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“Homebrewed pick-me-up from Gramma,” she said, jiggling the bottle. Seifer heard liquid sloshing about. It seemed to be about half full. “Special-made for lore users. Just takes a mouthful or two to get you back on track.”

 

“I...”

 

“Come on, X. We don't have time to waste. Plus...” Eos looked at him a little sympathetically. “Work'll keep your mind off women. For a while, anyway.”

 

Seifer squirmed. He couldn't think any other excuses. In the meantime, the idea of getting all his fire back without wanting to barf at the thought of it sounded appealing, and he took the blue glass bottle. The potion inside smelled like menthol but burned worse than brandy when it went down, and after a solid minute of coughing Seifer felt like barfing for other reasons. But once the coughing subsided, he had to admit that he did feel pretty good. Not 'full of night of rest and full day of eating' good, but definitely better than he'd been.

 

“Ready to go?” Eos asked as he straightened and took a few steadying breaths.

 

“Just give me a minute to change,” he said. Maybe he could find something to string the scales onto as a temporary measure.

 

“What's wrong with what you've got on now?”

 

“I don't like freeballing in the office,” he said, and Eos cringed.

 

“Ugh. I already see monsters all day, X. I don't need more nightmares.”

 

“Oh fuck you,” he said affectionately as he went to his room. Once there, he changed into closer-fitting Galbadian clothes that would squash down underneath body armor without needing to be removed and after a moment's thought, tucked his shirt into his pants. The loose scales were poured down the front, where they rested against his stomach. There, skin contact established. Seifer jumped around a few times to make sure his shirt wouldn't get untucked by accident, and once satisfied that his measure would hold, picked up a hooded robe with a built-in face screen and put it on. Eos looked him up and down when he came back out to meet her.

 

“I hate that you look better in my old clothes than I do,” she said without any rancor. “Let's go.”

 

They went. The walk was silent but companionable, and Seifer realized with a little jolt that he was actually looking forward to work. Left to his own devices, he'd undoubtedly stew alone in the dark with Ultimecia cackling at him, and it wasn't like Quistis was the only one with stuff to do in this disaster. Maybe they might cross paths. Idly Seifer wondered if she'd be pissy or contrite when they saw each other next, and what making up might lead to...

 

Ultimecia's chuckle jerked him from his daydreams. Surreptitiously he looked around and saw her hovering just above his normal sight and to his left, her gaze... Focused behind him. That was odd. She almost always looked at him. Seifer glanced over his shoulder and saw a flicker of a robe disappear around the corner of a building. For no good reason, it set his hackles up and he walked a bit more warily. There was an uncomfortable sense of being watched now that hadn't been there before and unconsciously Seifer started walking more quickly. Eos kept pace, but as they neared the XDI she looked at him a little oddly.

 

“You really want to get to work,” she said as they came in sight of the building. It was buzzing with activity today. Soldiers were everywhere, coming and going as they either received or dropped off information or samples taken from attack sites, and there was a dull roar of noise that seemed to charge Seifer's veins with adrenaline. It was exactly like the noise one might expect from an army camp or any kind of force preparing for war, and it made his blood beat quicker in his veins. As his senses sharpened, the feeling of being watched suddenly surged again and Seifer turned around, narrowing his eyes as he saw a person abruptly step behind another. It looked like they were trying to hide from him.

 

“X? What is it?”

 

“...Let's get inside,” he said, starting to jog now. Inside the XDI, only people with government badges could be around. That would prevent any hunters from following him in and buy him some time. Eos started to jog too, thankfully silent, and when Seifer glanced at her he was surprised to see that her face was tight with concentration. And that her hand was on the hilt of her sword, which was gleaming with a crystalline coating of ice. Whatever he'd picked up on, she was sensing it too.

 

Suddenly there were people in front of them, two of them face-on like they were making a wall with their bodies, and Seifer and Eos stopped short. Both of them were in plain white robes with their faces covered, but when Seifer looked at their hands he saw a pair of pistols and a very distinctive baton, chargestone-studded kind that Garden para-magic specialists used. He hissed through his teeth.

 

“Don't make a fuss,” said the SeeD with the baton, his voice vaguely familiar. “I don't like collateral damage, but I like letting you get away even less.”

 

“What he said,” said the pistolera, fingering her weapons with bated eagerness.

 

Seifer opened his mouth, but to his surprise Eos immediately stepped in front of him, grasping his arm so tight with her free hand that it actually hurt.

 

“I don't know what you two are on about, but my consultant isn't going anywhere,” said Eos sharply, her grip tightening on her sword. “Get out of our way.”

 

“Ma'am, that's a fugitive,” said the SeeD with the baton, gesturing at Seifer with a flick of his weapon. “And we've been on his trail for months. Step away from him or you'll get hurt.”

 

“If you attack an officer of the Estharian Army, it's going to go badly for you,” said Eos, pulling Seifer to the side. He followed but looked around for the original flicker that had caught his eye: SeeDs always traveled in threes.

 

“We actually meant that Almasy would go through you to get us,” said the pistolera, and Eos laughed.

 

“What?” She sounded perfectly incredulous. “You think this is Almasy? Seifer Almasy?”

 

“We know it is.”

 

“Bullshit. I've worked with him every day close to three months now. And he's not Almasy. Doesn't look a thing like him.”

 

“Almasy's got a way of hiding in plain sight,” said the para-magic SeeD, matching step to keep the same distance between him and Seifer. “Haven't figured it out yet, but I'm not surprised you don't see him. It took us a while, and even now I'm not sure why we can see him when we couldn't before.”

 

“X, get inside,” said Eos, still keeping herself between him and the SeeDs. Seifer realized with a weird surge that this was the first time anyone other than Fujin and Raijin had tried to protect him. Even Quistis had never put herself between him and danger like this.

 

“Look, I know you want to take care of someone you're obviously very, very fond of,” said the pistolera, moving to flank their other side. “But if you don't turn him over, you're going to get in trouble.”

 

“Trust us, he's not worth it,” said the para-magic SeeD, his voice sharp and low. “He's trash. He's always been trash. Just let us collect him and be on our way.”

 

“He's not trash,” Eos shot back, baring her teeth like she wanted to tear someone's throat out. “He's my very valuable consultant. And he's not going anywhere. X, get in the building now!”

 

“We really don't want to fight you,” said the pistolera. Seifer blinked as he recognized her, or more accurately her hairstyle. Apparently being a SeeD hadn't changed Alia Heckley's penchant for pigtails.

 

“ _Alia... A Trepie. She always ran with Nina Hernandez and Brount Grammaire. Well, at least I know who's after me. Not that it makes a fucking difference now!”_

 

“What's going on here?” demanded a new voice. Seifer turned and saw a squad of soldiers approaching, led by someone he unfortunately recognized. The boss of Eos's boss said sharply, “Officer Labdanum, explain yourself.”

 

Eos nervously licked her lips. “Commander Antissa, these SeeDs have got the wrong person. They think my consultant is Seifer Almasy.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Seifer Almasy, sir,” jumped in a voice from behind Seifer, and when he glanced over his shouder, he saw Nina Hernandez approaching. She was wearing a white robe too, but had pulled it open to reveal her field uniform underneath; there was no mistaking her as anything other than a SeeD. She pointed at him and said, “The Mad Knight. And our goal for the past eight months. We just want to extract him and be on our way.”

 

Antissa looked at Seifer strangely. Seifer kept still and tried to look innocent. In addition to being one of the highest-ranked officers assigned to the XDI, Antissa was also a tough son-of-a-bitch who led some of the most experienced and deadly soldiers in Esthar. He had also lost his wife and daughter in the Lunar Cry when the wall had first broken.

 

Antissa approached. Seifer stiffened. Eos nearly stepped in front of him again, but Antissa brushed her aside and flipped the hood with its half-mask off Seifer's head. He looked directly into Seifer's eyes, and Seifer felt every disconnected scale of his broken bracelet move against his stomach as he forced himself to breathe calmly. Antissa's weatherbeaten face was lined with age and pocks from miasma, which had calcified into a dusting of starlike growths along his neck and jaw. Hair every conceivable color of steel frizzed from his head, cheeks, and chin, while his eyes were as dark as obsidian. Seifer had once seen Antissa get literally eaten by a Lunar Beast in the field and cut his way out in a feat of badassery that Seifer hoped to one day surpass, though at the moment Seifer hoped Antissa was not about to cut through _him._

 

“Almasy, what... He's got blonde hair, aqua eyes, scar on his face?” said Antissa, and Seifer's stomach went subzero cold in fear. He could almost anticipate a hard-light blade going through his stomach. His hands itched for his long knives and the motions required to stab Antissa thrummed through Seifer's muscles. After months of fighting in Estharian body armor, Seifer knew exactly where all the weak spots were. Antissa might be a legend, but he'd still go down easy with the right leverage...

 

“Yes, sir!” said Nina, sounding relieved.

 

“Then you'd best get your eyes checked, young SeeD. This young man is as dark as I am, with black hair and black eyes,” said Antissa, and Seifer nearly fainted in relief. If the ranking military man said it, none of his peons would dare disagree—even though Seifer saw several of them exchange clearly confused looks.

 

“Thank you,” said Eos, relieved. To Seifer, she said, “Get inside. I'll see you—”

 

“Now that's real funny,” drawled a rusty, feminine voice. It raked against Seifer's brain like nails on a chalkboard, piercing familiar in its grating quality, and he looked immediately to see two women approaching through the still-thick crowd. Both were wearing Estharian robes, but just like the SeeDs betrayed their true identities in what they carried; one, a chain dart, and the other, gloves that appeared to be made of metal.

 

“Because what do you see, Ravi?” asked the shorter of the women, glancing at her chain-dart holding friend.

 

“Mmm, I see a young man with dark skin like mine, dark eyes like mine, and scars like my brother's all over his face,” said Ravi, cocking her head with interest.

 

The old woman jerked her head at one of Antissa's men. “You, soldier—what do you see when you look at that kid?”

 

“Uhh... I see an albino,” said the man, managing to look uncomfortable even with his face hidden. “Red eyes and all.”

 

Seifer touched his stomach. The scales were still there, still doing their work... Their work of _making him look different and nonthreatening to whoever looked at him._ Everything inside his skin chilled with the creeping realization. He'd been so confident in Edea's work that he'd never once really considered the flaws... And now that was going to kill him.

 

“Really?” said the rusty-voiced woman in mock amazement. “How amazing! What a neat trick, Little Sir.”

 

_Little Sir._

 

Seifer bit back the old woman's name: recognizing Kumi Na of the Bastards would give him away at once, because nowadays there was no reason that anyone in Esthar would know the name of an old Galbadian unit. The situation now made Seifer's guts clench. He had not been concerned about the SeeDs overly much. They would hurt him and like it, but ultimately bring him back to the Garden alive because Squall and the rest of them would want their 'justice' done. Even the Estharians, even Eos, would probably want to put him on trial and have him locked up, especially these military types. But Kumi Na was the leader of a notorious slaughter squad and the way she had been looking at Seifer earlier made him realize that if he ended up with her team, he was as good as dead. They had never gotten along during his time as Ultimecia's knight and she had openly and avidly made his life very difficult. The fact that the last time he'd seen her, he'd tried to kill her despite her being injured and unarmed, was probably why she was grinning at him so toothily now. 

 

Antissa looked at his soldier sharply and then back at Seifer, his obsidian eyes narrowing. When they widened, Seifer knew the jig was well and truly up. Fuck.

 

“ _I'd say I had a good run, except there's no way I can run out of this now...”_

 

“Well, well,” said Antissa, and Seifer sensed rather than saw the old soldier start to reach for his weapon. “How. About. That.”

 

“Commander,” Eos said desperately, putting herself between Antissa and Seifer so quickly that she nearly pushed Seifer down. Antissa leaned back just slightly, his face as impassive as stone as Eos pleaded, “It's a trick. I don't know how, but it's a trick. This is my consultant. You can look at my reports. He's done good work for Esthar, he's worked _so hard_ to help us—”

 

“Officer Labdanum, you are clearly compromised,” said Antissa, setting his hand firmly on her shoulder. “I'll make allowance for your sympathies, but if you do not remove yourself from this situation, I'll be forced to assume you knew something and didn't say anything.”

 

Eos was going to get in trouble. She was going to get fired. At the very least, she was going to get _hurt_ and Seifer realized that he didn't want that to happen. Whether or not she knew who he actually was, she was still a goddamned friend and she was going to lose everything to try keeping him safe. He was done for, but Eos didn't have to drown with him.

 

“Thanks, sucker,” he said, as loudly and cruelly as he could manage, and when Eos looked at him incredulously, he punched her in the stomach and ripped her sword from her belt as she fell. At his touch, the materia-core saber burst into rich scarlet flames that flared treelike into the air, blinding everybody who looked at it except Seifer. Despite the danger, Seifer couldn't help but stare. His flames had never been so huge or looked so beautiful. Using fire had never been so effortless.

 

But there was no time to bask. At once Kumi Na started laughing, making Seifer whip around to face her.

 

“Now that's the Little Sir I remember,” she said, making Seifer tense up. Now that he remembered who she was, he remembered what she could do. While searching for Ellone, they'd once gone on a search together and Kumi Na had burned a house down looking for their target—while people were still inside. Seifer had cut a hole in the wall to get everyone out, furious that Kumi Na would destroy people before questioning them, and she'd just shrugged. Her logic was that Ellone had once lived there and considered it safe. If all of Ellone's safe hiding places were gone, she'd have to be in the open. The terrifying logic made sense, but her callousness had never sat right even when Seifer had been out of his mind. Now it was flat-out sickening.

 

“This is going to be very different from last time,” said Kumi Na, and Seifer stared as her arm reformed into a tight barrel that went all the way up to her shoulder. “I'm not coming off a hard battle. I'm not unarmed. And you don't have your mama cheering you on.”

 

“Fuck you,” Seifer spat, and for once, the rustling of Ultimecia's wings nearby did not distract him. It tripped a switch somewhere inside him instead, alerting senses that hadn't been used in ages; it had been so long since he'd been in person-versus-person combat, since he'd fought anything with a real brain and real skills. Some part of him was excited for the challenge.

 

“Step off, Na!” Alia shouted, her voice shrill with hostility. Unfortunately it made her sound like a grade school child and it was no wonder that Kumi Na started laughing when Alia shrieked, “We got him first!”

 

“Dibs on the fugee?” Kumi Na returned mockingly. “No such thing, little SeeDling.”

 

“ _I need a way out,”_ thought Seifer, except there was no way out. In front of him were Kumi Na and Ravi, who hadn't lived to be old soldiers without using every trick in the book. At his back was Antissa and his squad of legendary asskickers. On his left and right were Brount and Alia, both of them itching to take a swing at him, and Nina was there too, ready to take a shot at his kidneys or some other low blow...

 

“ _What I'd give for a little help from Fujin right now!”_ thought Seifer, whirling his flaming sword above his head and concentrating hard on pulling the fire out. With Fujin, she could 'pop' him into the air and buy him some time. Now he had to do all the work himself, though the flames weren't exactly insufficient. With focus they hung in a trail cut by his sword, forming into a tight red ring around him that forced people back with extreme heat; in the heart of the fires, still connected to them from the sword, Seifer felt nothing. He scanned the plaza around the XDI for any possible exits, but there was nothing that didn't involve a run across territory with no cover, and with the hovers still being down, the only thing he could do was go down in New Esthar and hope he could hide until the heat was off. There was literally nowhere else to go. 

 

Seifer cursed his choices and then realized he'd been standing too long as a sudden lassitude thickened his joints. It was a sleep spell. Seifer slapped himself before it could take hold and then released the fire still around him with a snap of the wrist. It exploded out in an expanding ring that had people fleeing, creating gaps as people run away from each other. Seifer selected the one between Alia and Antissa's people; she couldn't shoot without hitting them, and all of them couldn't fire on him without hitting her. He darted between the two, wreathing himself in flames as easy as thinking about them, and two more shots melted to nothing by his sides. Apparently Alia was trying to shoot him in the ass.

 

“Almasy, just sit down and surrender!” He heard someone yelling. It sounded like Nina. “We won't hurt you if we don't have to!”

 

“Where's the fun in that?” Kumi Na's voice seemed to rise above the flames, and all of a sudden Seifer found himself falling as something yanked his foot out from under him. He caught himself right before he hit the floor, and without concentration the fires evaporated. Twisting around, he saw Ravi hauling him in like a fish on a line, her chain dart wrapped around his leg. 

 

“Hands off our op!” Brount shouted, raising his baton. Thunder boomed underground as one of the chargestones on his studded weapon gleamed. But before the spell was complete, the baton jinked out of his hand with a flash of light and a clang, and Seifer saw Antissa lowering his hard-light weapon. Apparently it could shoot bullets in addition to laser light. Fortunately the strap around Brount's wrist kept him from losing his weapon entirely, though he did shake out his hand and curse from the impact.

 

“Put your weapons down!” Antissa bellowed, nearly shattering Seifer's eardrums with the force of his shout. “We are under martial law! You are all under arrest!”

 

“We have authorization from Commander Leonhart to pursue Almasy in _all_ circumstances!” Nina shouted back. Flat on his back, Seifer saw Nina run squarely into Antissa's line of sight and wave a piece of paper in his face, saying, “He gave us a special dispensation to go after Almasy even in martial law! You can't arrest him—”

 

“Your Commander can take it up with the President later,” said Antissa, brushing the paper out of his face. Nina immediately crackled with energy, defense junctions snapping into place with a thought. As a unit the Estharians stepped back with weapons up.

 

“He's _our_ capture,” said Nina, her voice taking on electric tones that seemed to dry the air around her. “We've been hunting him for months and we're going to bring him in now. Sir.”

 

“Seifer Almasy is on Estharian land, and has done the most damage to us,” said Antissa, his eyes flicking from Seifer to Nina to Ravi and back again. “He answers to us first.”

 

“Take him from us and you got the ICSO on you,” Kumi Na retorted, which made Seifer blink. The last he had known, Kumi Na and her goon squad had been with the Galbadian army. Evidently something had happened. Nina and Antissa glared at her.

 

“My team has been after him for months,” Nina bit out, her robe billowing as the air ionized around her. “And more than that, he's an ex-SeeD so—”

 

“Ex-SeeD means a common criminal now, which means he's fair game and _mine,”_ Kumi Na shot back.

 

“He is implicated in the deaths of _thousands_ of Estharians!” Antissa said loudly, making his soldiers bristle. “He is why we are all down here in the first place! Put your weapons down, SeeDs and everybody included, this is your final warning—”

 

Kumi Na sneered. “Try it, hoodhat!”

 

Nina shrilled, “If you interfere in a Priority One capture, you're gonna have to answer to Commander Leonhart—”

 

While everyone was screaming at each other, they were distracted. Surreptitiously Seifer tried to free his leg from Ravi's chain dart, but she sensed him moving immediately and flicked her wrist in such a way as to put another loop around his leg. Seifer went still under her threatening glare, his mind racing with how he was going to get out of this particular situation.

 

Salvation arrived in the form of Alia Heckley and Brount Grammaire coming up alongside his head, Brount layering protective spells over the three of them as smoothly as spreading butter while Alia aimed her pistols at the Bastards. Ravi and her companion bristled, but took their focus off Seifer long enough for him to roll over and grab Alia's ankle with his free hand. While she yelped, Seifer concentrated hard and _pulled,_ hoping he still remembered how to do this technique after being a year out of practice...

 

He could feel Alia's GF hovering around her chest, where she probably had a piece of junction armor. It felt ancient and alive in a way his fire lore didn't and consciously pushed off his clumsy attempts to pull it from the otherworld where it waited. Seifer didn't care. Around the GF were chargestones and he grabbed the energy in one of them blindly, feeling the dry buzz in his brain like wasps walking inside his skull, and with little thought he threw it out, hoping it was something good—

 

It was a Firaga. Ravi screamed as flames like the birth of a star enveloped her head, and the chains around Seifer's leg went slack. He yanked Alia's ankle out from under her and kicked behind him, connecting with Brount's knee, and rolled onto his feet with sword in hand as the two SeeDs went down.

 

“Thanks for the buffs,” he said to Brount before taking off. It was SOP to lay Protect, Shell, and Reflect on every high-risk target in case someone tried to take a shot at them, and now as shots flared from Kumi Na's group and the Estharian soldiers, bullets and lasers alike sank into the Protect before they even neared his skin. Seifer ran anyway. He wasn't sure where he was running to yet, but anywhere was better than here with sixteen-to-one odds. At minimum.

 

“Let them come,” Ultimecia seemed to whisper in his ear. “You are still my knight. You still have all the strength you gained in my service. Let them know who they are truly facing.”

 

God, she had never sounded so tempting in his waking hours. For a moment it was almost like Seifer could feel the scars she had cut all over him tightening into his skin again, but this time not because they were binding him down; rather, that they were holding him together as untold power thrummed under his skin. In his hand, the materia-core saber was still burning with rich scarlet flames that burned with an ambitious hunger for more, and Seifer couldn't help but think of how easily they had responded to his needs. He didn't remember much about being the Mad Knight, but the feeling of otherworldly strength pouring through him was something that did haunt him every now and then. It seemed unreal that he had once had the strength to destroy a Guardian Force, but Quistis had confirmed he had. And a man who could do that shouldn't have to run from anything... Right?

 

Seifer's sprint for freedom slowed imperceptibly. There was still no place for him to run to. His life as he knew it was basically over, _again._ But this time he couldn't take it back by spiting the worst person he had ever known. At this point, it was either capture or death, _his_ death. Seifer gritted his teeth. In the Garden, one of the primary lessons had been that there was nothing wrong with retreat. Holding one's ground on the battlefield against hopeless odds was for patriots, dying people, and those stupid enough to think war was a fun time. Mercenaries did not have time for that. To fight a losing battle like some _hero_ was the antithesis to a mercenary's existence, because it was literally not worth it. It was destroying a lifetime of wisdom and training, literally devaluing oneself in the name of an ideal that wouldn't help any loved ones that survived you. Seifer knew all this, but practicality overriding honor was something that the Garden had never quite been able to beat out of him. His principles demanded otherwise. Maybe if he'd had more in his life, he wouldn't mind giving up appearances...

 

“ _We'll talk later.”_

 

If he died now, Quistis would never get to talk to him again. He'd die and she'd live with their last words being a fight about something she still didn't get. He'd die and never get to make her understand that he wanted her to be who she really was, whether or not that was with him. At least the last time they'd actually 'parted', he'd at least managed to say “I love you” and she'd understood that, even if she hadn't felt the same way yet.

 

“ _Fucking fuck, stupid... I'm going to have to surrender. The things I do for love!”_

 

Surrendering to Kumi Na and her Bastard was out of the question. She probably hated him for booting her down an elevator shaft and trying to kill her just before. Surrendering to Antissa might work out, but one glance over his shoulder and at the soldiers charging toward him in a formation Seifer remembered from Beast hunts on the surface made him re-evaluate that decision immediately: after all, it was not like New Esthar had the money to house criminals long-term, or even long enough for a trial. So that left surrendering to SeeD, which felt like pulling teeth... And yet, SeeD had Quistis in it, and Squall. They would not want him dead. And the search team had tried to take him alive, albeit in a stupid dumbfuck way. What was the rush? Why hadn't they just shot him in the ass with a trank or something?

 

“ _The only reason I can think of that they'd rush so hard is that they think I'm going to run for some reason... And why would I run from a cushy job and a nice place? Because I would have done something wrong, something big. Oh, fuck... They think I'm involved in the attack on the outpost! FUCK!”_

 

Once again, no ways out. But SeeD was still marginally the best place for him. If nothing else, they'd try to make him suffer and that meant 'not dead immediately'. Seifer glanced behind him once more. Nina, Brount, and Alia were running behind him too, all of them outstripping their competitors with an unnatural ease which meant they were all Hasted. Good. If they caught up to him first, he could surrender and then—

 

Nina dropped like a stone. Seifer didn't see what had hit her until he saw three more old people wearing old Galbadian fatigues jump out of hiding, one of them with a long-range rifle he held with ease. Alia screamed, sentiment getting the better of her, and slowed to turn around and throw healing on Nina. Brount turned too, critically distracted, and fell with a cry and blood fountaining from his arm. Whatever the old Bastards were packing, it was going through para-magic buffs like darts through tissue. Well, they _had_ made their name destroying Estharians in the First Sorceress War, and Estharians had been the ones to come up with para-magic first. That meant Seifer's buffs were also bullshit as soon as they got a bead on him. Seifer turned around anyway, dashing straight for the SeeDs. Buffs were about to be useless, sure, but the Bastards weren't interested in trying to kill him _right now._ Which meant he had some time.

 

Brount was clutching his arm but hissing through the pain, his baton lighting up with spells Seifer couldn't begin to imagine. Dropping to his knees, Seifer slid the last ten feet to Nina's side and grabbed her glove, which was thick with para-magic chargestones. On her other side, Alia's eyes flared with hideous.

 

“Don't you—!”

 

“Heckley, shut up and summon your GF!” Seifer shouted, and Alia's objections stuttered to nothing as Seifer pulled a Curaga from Nina's bracer and pushed it onto her. There was a wound on her head that looked fatal but the healing magic sank in instead of skittering off, which meant she was alive. Alia stared at Seifer like she'd never seen anything like him before.

 

“Why—”

 

“Because you fucks are my best chance of getting out of here alive! Now SUMMON!”

 

“Need some help over here!” Brount shouted, his face white-blue from the Protects he was throwing like confetti in front of their little group. He nearly did a double take when he saw Seifer, but maintained his focus. Alia's face turned determined and she immediately started muttering under her breath, her hair starting to lift in an eldritch breeze. Seifer cast another Curaga on Nina and for good measure, fed fire into the materia-core sword again. A thick serpentine coil of flame flared from the tip of the weapon immediately and hit the ground, growing longer and taller at the same time as it surrounded him and the search team in a barrier hot enough to melt any conventional bullets and critically distort hard light lasers. Brount immediately backed up, throwing his hand in front of his face as the flames roared higher than his head.

 

“Almasy, if you cook us all to death—”

 

“Get over here and heal Hernandez!” Seifer yelled, concentrating on keeping the flames as thick and solid as possible.

 

“Don't tell me what to do!” Brount shot back, but came over to Nina anyway. Curative sparks flared out from his baton with a lot more punch than Seifer had been able to get out of Curaga, and Nina groaned, her face instantly creasing with pain. She sat up, clutching her temples.

 

“I don't feel right,” she whispered. “Something... Something's not right.”

 

“ _Shrapnel in her brain,”_ Seifer realized distantly. It happened sometimes in the field. They had learned about it in class. Seifer caught a look of Brount's face and wished he hadn't, because the man looked absolutely devastated. No SeeD could go back into the field with such a bad brain injury, not without either killing themselves or everyone else around them when they tried to force para-magic through damaged structures. It was a shitty way to go.

 

Alia must have had a good rapport with her GF, because she flashed out of existence and all of a sudden, there were huge iron colums slamming into the ground next to Seifer and Brount. Seifer looked up immediately, his vision blocked out by a huge metallic thing that moved with mechanical hissing loud enough to rattle his ears. He saw Brount cover Nina's ears and immediately did the same for himself, just before the metallic thing thudded and shrieked somehow, and the world suddenly went bright white. Even with his ears covered, Seifer heard yells of shock from beyond the fire and a few of pain. As Alia reappeared, woozy and shedding motes of white light, Seifer risked thinning his flame barrier to survey the situation. Whatever the GF was, it had blasted deep holes in the floor and created a rough moat about thirty feet around them. The Estharians had backed up again, but there were bodies on the floor, both still moving and both in old Galbadian fatigues. Nice.

 

“Please tell me you called for backup on a high-priority capture,” said Seifer to Nina as she sat up, pushing Brount's hands off her head.

 

“What...?”

 

“Backup! Did you call?!”

 

“Uh... Yeah...” Nina winced. “Um... I...”

 

“ **You little shits have done it now!** ”

 

“Throw the strongest spell you have,” said Seifer to Brout immediately. “Whatever it is, just do it!”

 

“Shut the fuck up, Alma—”

 

“Brount, just...” Nina said weakly, but it was already too late. Three figures burst through the flames, the fire boiling off their treated battle fatigues. Alia tried to turn but still unsteady from summoning, she couldn't move fast enough to avoid getting shot point-blank in the chest. Brount choked as a chain dart wrapped around his neck and slammed him onto the floor. His cry of shock was literally cut off as Kumi Na casually stabbed him through the spine, the blade coming out of her left arm shooting out and back with a pressurized hiss. Seifer clutched Nina's para-magic bracer, furiously punching his brain to remember how to pull anything but fire and curing magic from the chargestones under his hand. Nina herself blinked up at Kumi Na, her addled brain struggling to comprehend the danger they were in.

 

“You're real lucky someone wants you alive, Little Sir,” said Kumi Na as the third Bastard raised a war hammer, aiming the killing blow at Nina. “At least for a while.”

 

“ _I should have surrendered to the Estharians,”_ thought Seifer as the hammer came down. He pulled Nina out of harm's way so the hammer impacted her shoulder instead of her head, and she screamed as her bones snapped and splintered. The Bastard swung the hammer back around, whirling the heavy weapon overhead. 

 

And then for no reason, his weapon went flying through the air, spinning away from the fracas. Sparks of green light glittering in the air around his hands were all the indicator that something that finally gone right.

 

“ **Move** ,” said a voice, inhumanly cold and yet familiar, and Seifer turned around to see four figures approaching beyond the wall of flames. He recognized their silhouettes and their strides, but still didn't believe it when he dropped the fires and saw Squall, Zell, Rinoa, and Quistis all approaching. All of them were armed, even Rinoa, and looked deadly serious. Kumi Na and her Bastards hesitated.

 

“Commander,” said Kumi Na, shifting her weight on her feet. “This is... A surprise.”

 

“Move,” repeated Squall, his eyes sparking with fury. In his hand, the Lionheart was pulsing white-blue as though angry too, and Rinoa was looking at the downed SeeDs with shock and anger. Zell tightened his gloves, dense with fury. But Seifer only had eyes for Quistis. She was wearing a field uniform, blue and grey and terribly official, and she looked at him like she didn't know him. Had it only been an hour that they'd seen each other last? What had happened to her in the meantime?

 

“Commander Leonhart, this is none of your concern,” called Antissa, approaching the scene with his soldiers right behind him. A few seemed to be missing. Seifer glanced past the line and saw two of them leading Eos, both with weapons on her and her with her hands behind her back. Fuck.

 

“Surely you've got more pressing things to worry about,” said Antissa, but Squall was already shaking his head. 

 

“Seifer Almasy is ours,” said Squall, never breaking his stride. Seifer had to admit that the guy had grown into authority and certainly looked the picture of it in the black formal uniform, a red half-cape snapping behind him as he walked. Rinoa walked rapidly beside him, shockingly professional in a blue sheath dress that made her look at least five years older, her steps clicking in little kitten heels. Her hands glowed with white sparks and Seifer tensed—was she so stupid as to throw sorcery around in public? Apparently she was, because she cast three things that looked like Curaga simultaneously, and immediately Alia gasped for breath, her shot-out chest filling in with flesh and bone too quickly for any manufactured magic. Brount pushed himself off the ground, wincing as his back popped loudly. With an audible crunch, Nina's arm pulled back into place and as she looked at it in shock, little pieces of metal fell from her hair and tinkled on the floor. _Damn._

 

“My search team found him first,” said Squall, ignoring the impossible magic his girlfriend had just pulled off. “He was our responsibility first. Move, or face all of Garden's forces.”

 

“Over this piece of trash?” Kumi Na scoffed. “That's funny.”

 

“He's not trash,” said Quistis, her voice as cutting as her whip. Seifer's heart swelled, anticipating some kind of grand romantic (and completely uncharacteristic) romantic gesture, but to his surprise Rinoa jumped in.

 

“Right, he's _actually_ Galbadia's Priority One capture,” said Rinoa, sounding almost like a grown-up. Seifer remembered she actually had a real job now, something involving politics. That was probaby why she sounded very confident when she said, “I don't agree with it, but that's what the current President wants—and he's my father, in case anyone forgot. Seifer Almasy took over our military and misused our resources in the Sorceress's name, so Seifer's just as much _mine_ as anyone else's here.”

 

Kumi Na bated from foot to foot, clearly unhappy. Antissa hesitated, obviously not wanting to start an international incident. Seifer realized he had room to breathe.

 

“Cut through them,” Ultimecia urged him eagerly. “Start with the old one with the metal limbs. It will demoralize the others. Then move onto the soldiers to establish your dominance.”

 

“ _Fuck you,”_ thought Seifer furiously, but he was not pissed at Ultimecia. He was instead pissed at himself and what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he put Eos's sword down on the ground and held his hands up over his head. Everyone immediately looked at him.

 

“I surrender to Squall Leonhart,” he growled, trying not to feel completely and utterly ill.

 

Squall blinked. Then the color drained from his face as his eyes went wide, and the slight drop of his mouth was nearly lost in Zell's predictably overdramatic reaction: the blonde actually leapt back and screamed.

 

“Whhhhhaaaaaaat?!?”

 

“I said, I surrender to Squall Leonhart, Commander of SeeD and Balamb Garden!” Seifer shouted, furious that he had to repeat himself. In his peripheral vision, he saw Rinoa cover her mouth, eyes wide in shock “Do you hear me, you idiots?! I'm surrendering to Squall Leonhart!”

 

.A little shift of motion made Seifer glance over at Quistis. She was still looking at him like he was just another target, just another capture. For a horrible second, Seifer wondered if that was true. Had she been stringing him along for months just to get him in this position somehow? But then she blinked and her expression warmed up, imperceptible to anyone who hadn't seen her truly vulnerable before. Seifer exhaled hard in relief.

 

“ _This is a stupid fucking way to be together,”_ thought Seifer, but her approval took the sting off his surrender just enough to make it palatable. Now was it going to be survivable, long-term? Only time would tell.

 

/\/\/\

 


	45. Chapter 45

 

_One hour ago_

 

The Western Gate of the Presidential Palace was slightly less ornate than the main one on the outside, but still had the same lift system that Quistis remembered from the surface inside it. However, instead of the lift taking them up into a building with views of the most technologically advanced city Quistis had ever seen, the lift instead went down through an opaque tunnel with screens showing peaceful nature scenes. Quistis was getting a little tired of the screens. She knew objectively that most of them had been modified to emit natural-spectrum light so people wouldn’t lose their minds underground, but they were no substitute for real weather. If she could tell the difference after just a few days, how did longer-term residents of New Esthar feel? Or were they simply numb to it after more than a year below? The Estharian architects should have taken some lessons from the Shumi when it came to creating surface-like environments underground.

 

“So what exactly does SeeD need me for?” Quistis asked Zell, who was sitting on the circular lift couch and jiggling one foot impatiently. She noted that he had gotten taller since the last time she had seen him, though privately she doubted he’d ever clear six feet. Most of the impression of height came from Zell’s face, which was leaning out with age and constant combat, and the grim look on it.

 

“Ehh, I should really let Squall talk about it…”

 

“…but?”

 

Zell sighed, slumping in his seat. “You should be prepared too. And it’s us, so I don’t think he’ll care if I tell you…”

 

“Zell, what is it?”

 

“I think the attackers at the outpost were blue mages like you,” said Zell, and as Quistis’s mouth dropped, he hastily said, “Not that I think you had anything to do with it, but one of the corpses we found on site was half-human and half-monster. And I could only think of one time I’d ever seen that happen before.” He cringed, looking very young all of a sudden. “You’re not… Mad, are you?”

 

“No, Zell,” said Quistis, shaking her head. “Actually, it ties in with some things I’ve already discovered.”

 

“Huh? You mean you knew?”

 

“Knew what?”

 

“About the attackers?”

 

Quistis shook her head, now stifling a little flare of impatience. Zell was many things, but an investigator was not one of them. His penchant for jumping to conclusions and being unable to read between the lines would preclude him from the designation. 

 

“No, I discovered some blue sage involvement during the wider attacks already,” said Quistis, folding her arms. “I was wondering how far it went. Knowing they attacked our outpost gives me more information. How did they destroy it?”

 

“Well, technically, _we_ destroyed our own outpost. Combat madness. But the survivors said they had to blast a hole and herd everyone out since it was a losing fight.” Zell’s face abruptly darkened. “The cowards attacked all our wounded. We lost a lot of good people.”

 

“We’ll make them pay,” said Quistis, which made Zell sigh and nod. 

 

“Anyway, it’s all hands on deck for this one, and Squall figured that since you know about this stuff firsthand, we _needed_ to have you back.” He hesitated and said, “Sorry about taking you off sabbatical early.”

 

Quistis looked down at the floor. Distance was helping her feel better about leaving Seifer like that, but not as much as she’d hoped. And the further apart they were, the more his words echoed cacophonously in his head. Would they ever see each other again? Truly? And how long would that last, between her job and his necessity for secrecy?

 

_“I’ll age out in less than a year, unless I go into administration… And I know Xu will try to push me into it. But if I don’t take it, then I’ll have nothing afterward. Oh sure, there are plenty of armies and private firms that would like to hire me, and probably even some ICSO organizations, but the fundamental problems of dating Seifer remain… Unless we go away together. And go into business together. Do I want that? I’m not sure…”_

 

“How’s stuff between you and, uh… Zero?”

 

“I don’t know, Zell.”

 

“Oh.” Zell looked awkwardly around the lift. “Sorry about that too.”

 

“It is what it is,” she said, straightening as the lift slowed down. “And I’ll worry about it later.”

 

The temporary base appeared to be barracks, which was unsurprising. SeeD didn’t need much to operate. In fact, the bleak and unfurnished space with its low ceilings and harsh lighting automatically put Quistis into SeeD-brain mode and when she and Zell stepped out of the lift, a part of her felt like she’d never left the Garden. A short walk took them to a meeting room with a large screen serving as a situation table, and Quistis recognized Marlburn and a few other high-ranking SeeDs gathered around it. Squall was there, of course, studying a holographic projection of the floor of New Esthar where the outpost had once been. 

 

“Squall, I’ve got Quistis,” said Zell by way of greeting, making Squall look up and nod at her. He too looked thinner, but in a slightly unhealthier way; sharper cheekbones, slight circles under his eyes, and his hands in particular seemed thin. Quistis wondered if it was the stress of the current situation or the office of Commander in general that was taking so much out of her friend. Though wearing the primarily black formal uniform didn’t help either; it washed everyone out.

 

“Good to see you,” Squall said, like he hadn’t seen her just the day before. Quistis saluted, pretending she hadn’t seen him either. In times of stress but no immediate danger, it was best to be formal.

 

“Good to see you too. What are my orders, Commander?”

 

Squall's lips twitched in what might have been a humorless smile. It went by too fast to really read. “You already know there was an attack on the outpost. We recovered the body of one of the attackers. I want you to look at it and tell me if anything jumps out.”

 

“Aye, Commander.”

 

“Good. Dismissed.”

 

“Just a second,” said one of the SeeDs, a Galbadian one Quistis recognized; Agatha was the unofficial leader of the Galbadian SeeDs that had defected to Balamb Garden when the Sorceress had taken over, and though all of SeeD was technically now one, she still wore scarlet on her uniform shoulders instead of blue. The woman cocked her head at Quistis and asked, “Where were you yesterday? Your ID scanned in but you never showed up for deployment.”

 

“I didn’t know to come,” said Quistis truthfully. “I was enjoying my sabbatical when the attacks broke out.”

 

“But you didn’t report to a staging area afterwards, either.”

 

“I didn’t know I had to.”

 

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, but Squall looked at Quistis sidelong, his expression tight. 

 

“Sabbatical or not, you should have checked in at the outpost upon your arrival,” said Agatha, leaning over the table in a distinctively combative way. Quistis unconsciously bristled. “After a year out of the field, you should have refamiliarized yourself with protocol as soon as possible.”

 

“SeeD Nanae, are you accusing me of something?” Quistis asked evenly, her stance unconsciously shifting wider for better balance.

 

“Just that somebody with nothing to hide would have come straight home.” Agatha’s eyes were very hard, very suspicious. For some reason she seemed determined to insinuate something, and while Quistis wasn’t sure why, she wasn’t about to let herself be pulled into a trap. If she threw Agatha a bone, the woman could chew on it and let Quistis’s real reasons go by unnoticed.

 

“Well, I did have something I didn’t want SeeD to know about.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“I have a boyfriend,” said Quistis. She thought the announcement might make some people chuckle, but to her surprise, no less than three of the seven SeeDs in the room looked astonished and one even looked heartbroken. Agatha herself seemed surprised. Quistis straightened glasses she wasn’t wearing and added, “And the reason I didn’t want any scrutiny was because he is an unbonded freelancer, and I didn’t want any complications.”

 

“You’re dating a _what,_ ” exclaimed one of the other SeeDs, looking positively aghast. Quistis looked at him evenly and decided to be a little bit bad.

 

“This is exactly why I didn’t come around,” said Quistis sternly. “I wasn’t aware my private… Time required SeeD clearance to access.”

 

That SeeD coughed, embarrassed. “Well no, but that’s just—“

 

“As soon as I landed in New Esthar, we met and ‘renewed our acquaintance’. Thoroughly.”

 

“Uhh…”

 

“And he’s just as possessive of my time with him as all of you apparently are, except what I _do_ in my free time is actually his business.” Quistis allowed herself a little smirk. “Not literally, you understand, but he could make a decent living at it.”

 

“So you’re saying he’s so good, he screwed _protocol_ out of your brain?” Agatha pressed, undeterred. 

 

“That’s enough,” said Squall to Agatha, who glared at him for a split second before dropping her gaze. “A SeeD’s time is their own when on sabbatical. Quistis Trepe checked in through general immigration, _not_ our own scanners, and she had no obligation to. She wasn’t even required to check her email. And as for the attacks, I have no doubt that she was doing her part away from the main force.”

 

“Yeah, Quistis said she learned some stuff,” said Zell, which made Quistis itch to smack him upside the head. Damn the man and his impulse to help! Agatha looked up immediately.

 

“Oh? What kind of stuff?”

 

“That blue—”

 

“Nothing conclusive yet,” said Quistis, giving Zell a _look._ He immediately quieted down, even putting his hands behind his back like a reprimanded schoolboy. “But it ties into why I’m back early. Commander Leonhart, you’ll have my report by the end of the day.”

 

“Good,” said Squall, looking back at the table. Quistis took that as a sign to leave, but Agatha’s pointed questioning curdled her return somewhat. Quistis didn’t think her return would be all fireworks and fawning, but the suspicion made her just a bit nervous. What if Agatha felt like digging into Quistis’s excuse? Why hadn’t Quistis volunteered the actual reason she had gone on sabbatical, her blue magic research?

 

_“Because Zell said at least one probably sage might be responsible… And I don’t want people to look at me like I might be, too. God, what does that mean about how I feel about Seifer? I’d rather possibly expose him to scrutiny and possible danger rather than have people look at me funny? Ugh…”_

 

A few queries got her to the morgue without issue. As she entered, the sight of SeeDs on multiple tables stole her breath more than the chill air did, all draped with sheets that hid their lethal wounds from view. There was a physician and her assistant at one end of the room, thankfully not dissecting anything; one was dictating notes while the other cleaned tools. At her entrance, they both looked up.

 

“SeeD Trepe reporting on Commander Leonhart’s orders,” said Quistis with a brisk salute. “He wanted me to look at the unusual corpse recovered from the attack.”

 

“Have at it,” said the physician fervently, gesturing towards a curtained-off section of the morgue. “I’ve never seen anything like that, and I used to work up around the Spookhole.”

 

“The Spook… Oh, you’re from Trabia,” said Quistis, remembering the local name for the first test of Lunatic Pandora. 

 

“Yeah, and we get some weird stuff up there. But nothing like that!” The physician shook her head, saying, “Turns my stomach. I can’t imagine things like that even existing, let alone being among us. Monsters like that are supposed to stay in the movies.”

 

Quistis smiled thinly, noncomittally, and went to the curtained-off area. She wasn’t sure what to expect, which led to a state of non-surprise once she saw the body. It was in pieces, most notably the head and the rest of the body. It was also quite clearly semi-human and semi-monster, the shapes blended together in an uncomfortable way that would have made Quistis’s senses crawl if she hadn’t been looking at it for exactly what it was: a lump of dead flesh, possibly with answers.

 

 _“The musculature is uneven, so the sage was in the middle of transforming when he or she was killed. The asymmetry is interesting, too; this must not be a shape they were familiar with, or they would have changed all at once instead of one limb at a time. Why this shape, then? Maybe most sages aren’t able to hold their shapes for long… Or something bad happens if they do. Norg_ did _say that sages who rampaged got stuck in their monster shapes forever, so maybe sages tend not to practice, or at least don’t practice like I have. That’s something to keep in mind, I guess._

 

_“I can’t tell anything about the sage’s original size from this… After all, if I can turn into a Ruby Dragon, this sage could have been anywhere from three feet to ten high in his or her original state. I can’t conclude anything about original skin or hair color either._

 

_“The body’s pale, so it bled out. Not surprising, considering the decapitation. I see a few other wounds here, primarily from bladed weapons. A few spell burns. Nothing deep. Some old scars too, which is interesting… Were those scars acquired in this shape, or did they carry over from the human state? I never thought about that before, but then again I tend to come out covered in fur, so I wouldn’t be able to see my old scars anyway. Something to pay attention to later, I suppose.”_

 

When she had finished examining at the body, Quistis turned her attention to the head. Unconsciously she had avoided looking at it, and even with the calm of training laying on her, there was still a twist in her gut when Quistis looked at the malformed face of what had once been someone like her. She stared stonily at the off-filtered, unevenly sized eyes, the stretched-out skull with both equine and human skull plates, and the knifelike growth coming from the forehead that abruptly broke off in a spray of flat crystalline shards. The points of Quistis’s forehead that swelled into the horns of the Ruby Dragon ached. She managed to look at the head for about ten seconds before the sudden urge to vomit nearly overwhelmed her.

 

_“That’s not me. That’s not my future. That’s not going to happen to me.”_

 

She reminded herself of her extensive training, not just in blue magic but in Guardian Force usage and personal control. Even at her worst, she had never been anything less than herself, even if that self had been more emotional or savage than she’d thought. There was absolutely no reason to think she’d ever end up in such a state, or that she might end up stuck in one.

 

_“This is just a dead body. I’ve seen dead bodies before. And I’ve seen ones like mine before, young women with blonde hair and blue eyes. I didn’t have nightmares about ending up like them because I knew I could save myself, or at least kill myself before what happened to them, happened to me. This is exactly the same case.”_

 

Quistis forced herself to look at the head again. The nausea roiled, but she throttled it under control like she was working in the field under fire. Determined to be thorough, she leaned over the head and inhaled deeply.

 

The scent was surprisingly neutral. She expected the sweet-rot of dead body and brain matter, but a dusty equine smell took off the worst of it. A hint of vinegar made her nose itch. Quistis put on a pair of gloves and turned the head over, grimacing as the uneven malformations continued here but otherwise not seeing anything different.

 

_“This wasn’t a clean decapitation… In fact, it looks like the neck was severed from repeated impact or multiple shots. Maybe they didn’t die immediately and that’s why the transformation is so strange. Hm? This is odd…”_

 

Underneath a vaguely humanoid ear was a dark smear of blue-black. Quistis looked at it closely and was forced to conclude it was not a bruise like the color had originally suggested; it was too black to be inflicted perimortem, and any earlier and it would have started to heal. Quistis picked up the head and studied the smear even closer, but it wasn’t until she began tilting the head from side to side that she realized it was a design, a tattoo to be precise, that had gotten stretched beyond recognition by the sage’s transformation. Something glittered underneath it like a scar, except tattoo ink did not remain so dark over scar tissue. Shading the head with one hand helped the glittering designs stand out a bit better, but when Quistis realized what they were, she nearly dropped the head in shock. It was hidden script, like the kind that was in her Blue Mage Tome. And she could read it. 

 

_“This is not yet our Heaven.”_

 

Carefully Quistis set the head back down. She blinked hard and looked at the head again. Now that she was looking for the distortion and the words, she could see them quite clearly. Disposing of her gloves, she left the curtained area in search of the physician and her assistant. Neither of them were around, which made Quistis thin her lips. She knew from showing the Tome to Seifer on previous occasions that he couldn’t see the hidden script in the pages, which probably meant that non-blue humans couldn’t see them in general. However, what if the images could be photographed with a different light spectrum on them? At the very least the morgue should have a blacklight, but Quistis had no idea where such a device might be, nor how to operate it, and she didn’t know where the camera was either. Huffing slightly, she was deciding whether or not to find the physician or start going through drawers when the morgue doors suddenly burst open. Quistis jumped. From the violence of the noise she expected a loose Beast or maybe Zell in panic, but it turned out to be Rinoa. A barely recognizable Rinoa, anyway. Quistis barely had time to take in her friend’s sleek dress, her heeled shoes, and the fact she was wearing pantyhose before the younger woman spotted her and lit up with relief. 

 

“Oh! Good! There you are!”

 

“What’s wrong?” Quistis asked, her mind immediately going to the worst. But then again, Rinoa wouldn’t look relieved in the least if someone had discovered she was a sorceress. 

 

“They found Seifer,” said Rinoa, her face snapping to seriousness. 

 

What?

 

“The search team just called Squall and he and Zell are going to get him. Well, help them get him.”

 

What?

 

“But they have to leave now because apparently there’s a whole bunch of other people on the scene and I was _thinking,_ they could use some backup but SeeD can’t spare anybody because they’re still recouping their losses so you and I should go to fill out the numbers—hey, Quistis!”

 

 _“What did he do when I left?”_ Quistis thought, barely conscious of striding through the morgue. Rinoa caught her arm but Quistis pulled free without even looking. _“Is it my fault for leaving when he was so angry? Was he careless because he was upset about our fight?”_

 

Over a year ago when Quistis had first lost Seifer to the Sorceress and thought him dead, the memories of every partner ever killed while on a mission with her had made her burst into tears. In a way this was worse. She was going to witness his destruction firsthand by people she would have to work around later. Unconsciously Quistis started to hyperventilate. 

 

_“Even if I’m not the cause of this, he could still die or be hurt. And the last memory he’ll have of me is me walking away from him when he’s begging me to come back. God, why did I just assume we’d see each other again? I was so angry that I forgot about our odds, but if this turns out in the worst way possible, our ‘later’ is going to be his dying breath. I should have forgiven him. He was only worried about me!”_

 

“Quistis, stop!” Rinoa was abruptly in her line of sight and Quistis barely managed to stop before walking over her. “This is why I came to get you. So we could go and _make sure he comes in okay._ ”

 

Quistis stared at Rinoa in confusion. Rinoa grasped her hands and squeezed, full of an empathy and compassion every SeeD had trained out of them as fast as possible. All of a sudden Quistis’s throat hurt. 

 

“He’ll be okay,” Rinoa whispered, smiling reassuringly. “We won’t let anything happen to him.”

 

Quistis nodded stiffly, maintaining control against the urge to wail and rage. She’d believe when the best if it happened and Rinoa _did_ seem to have a way of making her dreams come true, but one couldn’t count on hope alone. Quistis needed to be there when Seifer came in.

 

“Then I should change," said Quistis, glancing down at her Estharian clothes. "So the arrest is more official. If I show up like this-”

 

“May I?” Rinoa asked, cocking her head. There was a subtle shine in her eyes that made Quistis realize that Rinoa had been studying sorcery just like Quistis had been studying and practicing blue magic.

 

"Is it safe?" Quistis asked, worried for Rinoa despite everything. "If there are cameras around..."

 

Rinoa shook her finger at Quistis with a little smirk. "Laguna promised everything was disabled and I  _confirmed_ it for Squall before everyone came in. Also, everybody's been so busy and so lean on supplies that only the choke points have surveillance. Trust me, we're fine."

 

"Well... Alright then. Thank you, Rinoa."

 

Rinoa smiled. Her eyes glowed briefly, white from the scleras in a distinctly unsettling way. A second later there was the unnerving feeling of a million silky worms wriggling over her skin, but when Quistis looked down, she was in the standard SeeD field uniform with a SeeD crest on the sleeves and belt buckle. The arms of the crest were even Balamb blue. Rinoa must have been paying very close attention to what the SeeDs wore, though as Quistis looked at herself in surprise, she saw a scuff mark on the uniform belt that she remembered putting there from training, and a look at her shoes revealed them to be the slightly uncomfortable ones that were nevertheless unparalleled in traction. Both the pants and the top (a shortsleeved bodysuit) were slightly tight, and covering her arms were the black mesmer-hide gauntlets Quistis had worn before replacing them with her thicker and hardier marlboro-skin ones. She looked at Rinoa a little suspiciously.

 

“This is _my_ uniform. The one out of my locker in Balamb Garden.”

 

Rinoa shrugged, the eldritch light leaving her eyes. “I just _pulled_ whatever you thought you should be in.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Really. If I try to control it much, I end up with something weird.” Rinoa suddenly laughed. “A few months ago, I tried to summon a folder that I knew had an exact phrase in it, and I summoned every piece of paper in my office with that same phrase. The problem was that they all manifested in the same space, so I ended up with this totally unreadable brick of classified whatevers. I managed to separate them, but it took a lot out of me.”

 

“We’ll have to talk more about that later,” said Quistis. She took a step forward and jumped as something tapped her on the leg, and when she looked down she saw the gleaming golden coils of Save The Queen on her belt. “You pulled my weapon too?”

 

“Well yeah,” said Rinoa with a little grin. There was a flash of light around Rinoa’s right arm as she lifted it to eye height, and all of a sudden her Shooting Star gleamed in a space it definitely hadn’t occupied before. 

 

“How do you explain all these things?” Quistis had to know. “Surely someone’s noticed something odd.”

 

Rinoa’s mouth twisted. “It’s… Complicated. And we can talk about that later too. But for now, let’s go. Lucky for us, the hangar’s close by.”

 

Either Rinoa was either very familiar with the base or was using sorcery to find the hangar, because she walked there with absolutely no hesitation. Despite being underground, the hangar could hold several full-size vehicles and Quistis’s eye went to one in particular that had its back ramp down for landing, a small armored type that looked like a Galbadian plane in the belly and wings but had Estharian antigrav engines instead of conventional propellers. The SeeD emblem was prominent on the doors. As Rinoa and Quistis came in, Squall and Zell were approaching from the far end. Unfortunately so was Agatha, and Quistis schooled her expression to neutrality.

 

“Good, you’re here,” said Squall to Quistis. She marveled at his improved ability to obfuscate on short notice as he said, “You can update me on your findings while we fly.”

 

“I know it’s time-sensitive,” said Quistis. Meanwhile Agatha frowned at her, which initially made Quistis bristle until she realized Agatha was actually looking at Rinoa.

 

“Ambassador, why are _you_ here?” She asked, making Zell frown and Squall narrow his eyes somewhat. 

 

“I’m representing Galbadia’s interests in Seifer Almasy’s capture,” said Rinoa, quite professional.

 

“How did you even find out?”

 

“I hear things,” said Rinoa vaguely. Agatha looked at Squall suspiciously, but dropped her gaze as soon as he met hers with a cold one of his one. No doubt she was thinking Squall had given up classified information, and that he probably shouldn’t take a competing interest along on a capture mission, especially a high-value one that might cause an incident if she were injured. Logically Quistis could sympathize with Agatha. Now, however, the woman was making things complicated. Again. Why was she here?

 

“I’ll be back in an hour,” said Squall to Agatha, who saluted. “Keep trying to hail Xu. If the Estharians ask, it’s a classified communication. I’ll deal with them later if they put up more of a fuss.”

 

“Yes sir, Commander. And what about holding?”

 

“19, red block.”

 

“But sir, that’s—”

 

“19, red block,” Squall repeated, his voice hardening.

 

Agatha grimaced and saluted. “Yes sir, Commander. Is there anything else?”

 

“Don’t tell anyone about the capture yet,” said Squall, making Agatha blink. “I don’t want people losing their focus. Dismissed.”

 

“Yes sir.” Agatha turned on her heel and left. As she walked away, Squall gestured at the waiting vehicle and as a group, the old gang stepped on. Zell went immediately through the central aisle to get to the cockpit and the pilot’s seat, while Squall sat down in the back with Rinoa and Quistis. The interior was not unlike a gunboat, though more compact and lacking an area for a galley.

 

“What’s red block?” Rinoa asked as the craft hummed to life.

 

Squall folded his arms, his gaze flicking to the side. Among old friends, his posture finally relaxed and his voice lightened, becoming less of a harsh monotone and more of his usual soft one. Paradoxically it also dropped several notes, making Quistis realize that Squall actually strained his voice to talk louder.

 

“It’s a section of rooms aboveground. We use them as one of the staging areas for Lunar Beast patrols, but with the attacks, everyone’s been pulled back here. One of the rooms will do as a cell for now. Even if Seifer manages to escape, the only place he can go would be outside.”

 

“Squall!”

 

“What?”

 

“That’s inhumane!”

 

Squall looked at Rinoa strangely. “Why? We put SeeDs in there all the time.”

 

“But what if something breaks in?” Rinoa was actually getting angry. “He’ll be alone up there with no support!”

 

“The aboveground section of the Presidential Palace is the most heavily fortified area in Old and New Esthar,” said Squall, and as Rinoa opened her mouth, he pointed out, “Laguna still sleeps aboveground. So do Kiros and Ward and their families. They wouldn’t do that if it wasn’t secure. Besides, I want him out of the way of SeeDs who might try to harm him before we can get him to Balamb Garden.”

 

“Plus, room 19 is nice,” said Zell from the cockpit, making Rinoa glare at him. “What?! It is! I mean, it’s not the _nicest_ one, but it’s got its own bathroom attached and you don’t have to share with anybody. We use it for quarantining people who might possibly be infected with spores and stuff.”

 

“So you’re putting Seifer in the germ room!”

 

“In the germ recovery room,” said Squall, and then looked at Quistis. There was a surprising amount of concern in his face as he said, “You haven’t said anything. How are you feeling?”

 

“It’s better that he comes with us than anyone else.”

 

Now Rinoa was looking at Quistis sympathetically. “You can say what you really feel,” she said reassuringly. “We’re your friends. And no one's listening in.”

 

Quistis looked down at her lap. At some point in time she’d sat down, clenched her fists, and put them on her knees. She could not remember doing any of that, nor even walking into the transport. 

 

“I don’t know how I’m feeling,” said Quistis slowly. “All I know is that things can be sorted out when he’s alive. So he has to come back alive.”

 

“What the hell kind of fight did you guys have?” Zell asked, making Squall and Rinoa look at Quistis in surprise. “I mean, uh… I guess it’s not really my business, but you’re kind of freaking me out with this whole… Silent and staring holes in everything routine you’ve got going.”

 

Quistis resisted glaring at Zell, and then at Squall and Rinoa as the two of them exchanged worried glances. What did they want from her? She had never been the type to break down crying or screaming in any situation, and she certainly wasn’t going to fret when she didn’t know enough about the situation.

 

“Rinoa, you said there were ‘a whole bunch of other people on the scene.’ What did you mean by that?”

 

Squall answered before Rinoa could reply. “Nina Hernandez of the search team said she saw one unidentified squad of two to five combatants and a squad of ten Estharian soldiers from the XDI contesting the capture.”

 

Quistis mentally tallied the odds and bit her lip when she realized they were fifteen to eighteen against one. There was no way Seifer could expect to escape intact or alive, but she knew he would try anyway. It was in his nature. Seifer had always refused to blindly obey authority or give up his autonomy, and both tendencies had only intensified since breaking free of Ultimecia. He would rather die than not be free. Quistis’s mouth went dry and she nearly asked Zell if the transport could go any faster, but it wasn’t like Zell to dawdle so she left him alone to concentrate.

 

“Are we expecting a fight?” Rinoa asked Squall, frowning.

 

“Possibly.” Squall looked at Quistis, eyes narrowing. “You don’t have your junctions.”

 

“I’ll be fine without them.”

 

“Really?” Squall sounded skeptical. 

 

Quistis glared. Rather than explain, she gestured sharply with an overtone hum under her breath and the Titan Guard she had developed in Shumi Village instantly enveloped everyone in the transport. Rinoa looked around the dense sphere of sparks, her impressed look lit up from every angle before they faded away.

 

“Wow,” she breathed. “That’s so… Complete.”

 

Squall snapped his fingers a few times, watching and feeling the play of magic over his hand with the motions. “Protect, Shell, Regen, Haste, Aura… No Float.”

 

“But Quistis’s never been able to cast on _four_ targets before,” Rinoa pointed out, which made Squall blink in surprise.

 

“I also don’t have to be near death to get the Aura status,” said Quistis, straightening glasses she wasn’t wearing. “And I can pull it every single time.”

 

Squall nodded with new respect lightening his eyes. “Good. Hopefully it won’t come to that, but it’s to be prepared.”

 

“Okay, here we go,” said Zell, making Quistis look at him in surprise. “We’re… Oh, shit.”

 

“What’s wrong?” Squall asked, half-rising from his seat.

 

“Well, let’s just say that it was good we’re prepared.” Zell suddenly turned the controls, making the entire vehicle lurch. Squall was thrown back into his chair, while Rinoa clutched her armrests and Quistis braced against the floor with her legs. “Setting down now. We should come out strong, but not hot.”

 

“What does that mean?” Rinoa asked as the transport landed with a soft thump. 

 

“Authoritative but not hostile,” said Quistis, already on her feet. She uncoiled her whip and snapped it to test its flexibility, not noticing how everyone jumped from the explosive cracks in the vehicle’s tight confines. After nearly a year of disuse, Save The Queen still responded like an extension of her own body and Quistis took a deep, steadying breath as strength seemed to flow into her. With this weapon in hand, she had destroyed Time Compression and Ultimecia. She could definitely save Seifer this time around. As the back ramp opened, Quistis was already striding toward it and only by jogging were Squall, Rinoa, and Zell able to keep up with her. 

 

Zell had set the transport down in a large plaza, and with a distant pop of surprise Quistis recognized the distinctive white spire of the XDI across the way. The plaza was mostly empty, probably because of the combat taking place in the middle of it. A huge fire probably twelve feet across and at least ten feet high was burning hot with no visible fuel, but it was just thin enough that Quistis could see the figures inside. Sharpening her distance with the Ruby Dragon’s far sight, she sucked her breath over her teeth as she saw a figure with weapons for arms shoot a person she recognized and stab another while he lay struggling on the ground. Even with the distortion from the flames, she knew neither of those people were Seifer. He was kneeling on the ground for some godforsaken reason, tense in every line, and Quistis felt something in her head seem to pop as a figure with a war hammer raised it above their head. The figure swung. Seifer jerked. And someone else screamed as the hammer met flesh and bone with a noise Quistis could hear clear across the plaza. Sudden adrenaline blazed in her brain and vented through her eyes, making Quistis glare twin lasers into existence with more feeling than thought. The figure with the hammer yelled as their weapon went spinning away, and at once the flames puffed into nothing. Seifer turned around, stunned. 

 

 _“What did you do?”_ Quistis couldn’t help but wonder as she looked at him. Why was he on his knees? What had happened? How had he been caught? Too many questions whirled in her mind, all of them taking up valuable processing space until she caught the word ‘trash’ and a sneer directed at the man she loved. At once Quistis’s focus snapped back to the present. Absently she realized she was more distraught than she’d thought if she could be distracted so easily so many times. She hadn’t even really noticed how many other people were around, excepting the ones right in front of Seifer. The one who had called him trash was a thin old woman who looked like a bitter version of Xu from a horrible future, including weapon-prostheses. 

 

“He’s not trash,” Quistis snapped, not caring how it looked to anyone else. A fire started to build in her chest, forcing Quistis to take deep breaths before it could overwhelm her and possibly make her transform. Seifer kept staring at her, not caring who saw him looking either. She assessed his condition as best she could. He didn’t look to be hurt. He had clearly recovered from his hard fire usage yesterday. And… And he didn’t look upset at the sight of her. He looked surprised, shocked even, but not unhappy to see her at all. In light of everything going on it was a stupid little thing to notice, but all of a sudden the air seemed to rush back into Quistis’s lungs, just in time for her to register Seifer putting his hands up in the air.

 

“I’m surrendering to Squall Leonhart!”

 

 _“Oh thank goodness,”_ thought Quistis as everybody else stared in shock. Tactically it was the only sound decision he could make with such odds, and a formal surrender would stop everyone from fighting each other to get him. More than that, he was not about to die fighting in front of her eyes. The majority of her dread eased. Quistis looked at Squall pointedly, who seemed in a state of shock as Seifer repeated the statement two more times.

 

“Squall, you have to accept,” Quistis prompted. “If you don’t, someone else could arrest him anyway.”

 

“I accept!” Squall shouted immediately, nearly making her jump. Quistis was taken aback at how loud he could be. She had never heard him speak in anything other than ‘soft indoor’ or 'commanding the troops' outside of battle. Seifer stiffened, but then a second later bowed his head in acknowledgement. Only he could make the action anything other than submissive.

 

“Oh that is some bullshit,” said the weapon-armed woman, her raspy voice rising with rage. “We’ve got him dead to rights. He’s ours!”

 

“He is _not,”_ said Quistis, pitching her voice so she was loud without shouting. “Under the rules of the Garden Charter and the International Combat Specialist Organization, Seifer Almasy is a ward of Balamb Garden and that means that in all matters of discipline, he is our responsibility until he turns 20. He was the Mad Knight when he was 18. He’s 19 now. We are the only ones who can legally take him into custody, and if anyone tries to take him from us, the Gardens will not hesitate to enforce their authority in this manner.”

 

“Uh,” said Zell, looking nervously at Squall. Squall nodded, unperturbed that Quistis had essentially spoken for him. 

 

“As soon as the search team called in their find, I contacted the Headmasters of Balamb, Galbadia, and Trabia Gardens,” said Squall, his voice firm and convincing. “They in addition to the Garden Master and the Garden Founders will be coming to Esthar as soon as martial law is lifted, and the entire Council will take Seifer Almasy back to Balamb Garden to face our justice. No interference will be tolerated.”

 

The weapon-armed woman’s mouth went so thin and tight that it practically disappeared in her face. The Estharian commander looked calm, but anger emanated from his still visage in waves. Behind him, his soldiers restlessly fingered their weapons. 

 

“Almasy was found on Estharian soil, attempting to infiltrate an Estharian government facility, and the gods only know what he did inside especially considering the last time he was in one,” said the commander, making Quistis bite back a defensive retort. “His current crimes take precedence over his past accusations, and 19 or not, he _is_ of age to be convicted as an adult. You will remand him to our custody, or _Esthar_ will not hesitate to enforce its authority in this matter.”

 

Doubt flickered in Squall’s eyes. That on top of what the Estharian commander had said made Quistis angry.

 

“You have no proof anything more serious than _trespassing_ occurred, assuming he wasn’t invited in,” said Quistis, careful to leave Eos’s name out of things. It would come to light soon enough, but not because of her. “And while Commander Squall Leonhart can make assurances as to the use of the Garden’s forces with perfect authority, I doubt that President Loire would take such a light view of anyone ranked less than a General doing the same thing.”

 

The slight made the Estharians bristle. Their commander said nothing, but Quistis saw a muscle jump in his clenched jaw. He took a breath and the tension seemed to resolve in him both emotionally and physically.

 

“Justice knows no rank,” said the commander, and like his soldiers had read his mind, they all raised their weapons. Squall and Zell tensed up. Quistis exhaled her temper, a trained looseness coming into her limbs. Sixteen monster souls growled in the suddenly too-small confines of her body, making her clench her hands into fists. 

 

“I’d advise you to reconsider,” said Quistis, her voice as cold as her temper was hot. 

 

“Definitely,” said Squall, and then surprised Quistis by saying, “Picking a fight with us wouldn’t be a dust-up with some common mercenaries, but instigating military action against an autonomous state. Essentially, declaring war. I wouldn’t be surprised if Galbadia decided to do the same, if only to check Esthar’s aggression towards unaffiliated territories. Again.”

 

“He’s right,” said Rinoa, her voice suddenly somber. “I mean… Galbadia’s not fond of the Gardens in general, but if Esthar decides to start attacking countries again, we _would_ respond. We’d have to.”

 

“And Galbadia still has most of its army intact,” said Zell, not particularly loudly but pointedly enough to be heard. 

 

If Quistis had been anything other than totally focused on the looming possibility of violence, she would have been impressed at her friends’ smarts. Particularly Squall, who’d obviously had a serious crash course in international “diplomacy”. The implied threat made the Estharian soldiers bristle even more, but their commander just glared. He didn’t appear to breathe or move for a solid five seconds, and everyone jumped when he suddenly huffed and gestured sharply for his soldiers to lower their weapons. There was a palpable air of disappointment around them.

 

“This is not the end of this,” the man said, gesturing at Seifer with his free hand. “We _will_ have Almasy one way or another. And the President may be your _special friend,_ Commander Leonhart, but he still has to answer to the Estharian people. You’ll be hearing from us very soon.”

 

Squall just inclined his head. At first Quistis thought he was agreeing, but then she saw him look at her and then Zell.

 

“Take him into custody,” said Squall, like it was just another capture. 

 

“Yes Commander,” said Zell, formal for once.

 

“Yes Commander,” Quistis echoed, and all of a sudden her stomach flopped with nervousness. She resisted the impulse to lick her lips or take any sort of shaky breath. Instead Quistis forced herself to walk and pretended like she was watching someone else approach Seifer, her boyfriend, the love of her life, and put him in chains. 

 

The search team had been quiet throughout this exchange, properly wary with Seifer at their backs and three older mercs at their front who had come very, very close to killing them. Now as Quistis and Zell approached, they got to their feet and Seifer rose with them. Quistis noted that Nina pulled her wrist free of his grasp but did not immediately try to put Seifer in a hold. Instead she was looking at him somewhat oddly, her lips pursed with consideration that her teammates did not share. Both Alia and Brount were glaring at Seifer in contained fury, and when Brount picked up Seifer’s sword, Quistis thought for a fleeting moment he was going to stab Seifer with it. For no good reason Quistis remembered that Brount had confessed his affection to her right about the time she and Seifer had started fooling around back at the Garden, and how a single night of passion between them was now one of the Garden’s worst-kept secrets. Was Brount jealous? Or was he angry that Seifer had surrendered instead of letting the search team beat him to a pulp and drag his unconscious body back to their base? Looking at Brount was easier than looking at Seifer, though the weight of his eyes on her pulled at her like a lodestone. When she was less than ten feet away, Quistis at last dared to look Seifer in the eyes.

 

He looked pissed. He looked angry, frustrated, and disappointed. But Quistis thought it wasn’t directed at her, or at least it didn’t feel like earlier in the day when they’d been shouting at each other. He was justifiably angry about the situation though, and he seemed to swell with particular irritation as he looked over her field uniform. But of course. He was probably thinking that she couldn’t wait to be a SeeD again. 

 

“Shooting me in the heart wasn’t enough, Trepe?”

 

Shock nearly made Quistis stumble, but immediately she realized what Seifer was doing and straightened imaginary glasses. Of course they couldn’t be sweet toward each other when random people were looking. “That was work… Almasy.”

 

“Oh, so it’s ‘Almasy’ now?”

 

“You lost the opportunity to be called anything different when you didn’t come back.”

 

“Like you’d’ve been alright with that?”

 

“We’ll never know, will we?”

 

Zell looked at her a little weirdly, but the search team looked both scandalized and delighted. Quistis suppressed dual surges of amusement and annoyance. Seifer was trying to protect her reputation as best he could. Unfortunately, he was also making it difficult for her to publicly express any sympathy for him. She was not sure she wanted to play the cold, scorned woman for everyone else’s benefit when all she wanted to do was run up to Seifer and make sure he was unhurt by kissing every inch of his body. 

 

“Sell some tickets and pass the popcorn,” said the freelancer with the hammer, making his companions chuckle. “What’s the story with you two?”

 

“We dated.”

 

“I took her virginity.”

 

Quistis did not have to fake the blush that exploded up her cheeks. Zell’s jaw dropped. Alia clocked Seifer at the back of the head with her pistol hard enough to make him stagger, and Nina’s considering look immediately vanished to become one of outrage like Brount’s. Seifer cursed but then started chuckling, and as he rubbed the back of his head, he managed to shoot Quistis a look that sent a little warm pulse through her chest. It was a very certain sort of playful look that most people took as challenge or hostility. Quistis put her hands on her hips, resisting the urge to smile back. Unconsciously her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned with the effort, giving a good impression of actual irritation.

 

“Do that again, and I’ll tell everyone about the experience,” she said, making the freelancers hoot and the search team gasp. “Including… Well, you remember.”

 

“Mmhmm,” said Seifer, but pitched his voice in such a way that it was clear he’d behave. Grudgingly. Now his eyes were glittering with amusement and Quistis had to try hard not to laugh. 

 

Meanwhile Zell looked pointedly at the freelancers, who backed up a few paces with their weapons in the air. Clearly outgunned, they had no legal recourse with which to claim Seifer, but nevertheless the weapon-armed woman stared at Seifer with a homicidal possessiveness that made Quistis watch her especially carefully. She smelled very odd, more heavily of metal and industrial lubricant than anyone Quistis had ever encountered. When the woman looked at Quistis, the way her pupils tightened in her very dark eyes made Quistis realized they were mechanical. At first Quistis thought the woman was going to say something to her, but she just kept staring instead. It was more annoying than unnerving, however, so Quistis mentally filed it away and then promptly ignored it. 

 

“Hands,” said Zell to Seifer, who grumbled but held his hands out anyway. From his pocket Zell took out a few pairs of special Garden-issue cuffs; light and plastic, they were anything but fragile in use. Multiple pairs locked Seifer’s wrists together and a Fire spell fused them into a solid block. They cooled quickly and hardened into something that was comparable to metal, a useful property Quistis had taken advantage of during multiple missions. Seifer knocked them experimentally against his hipbone anyway, making the search team scoff or roll their eyes. 

 

“Yeah, like it was going to be that easy,” said Brount, putting Seifer’s sword on his shoulder. “Don’t be stupid. Stupider, anyway.”

 

“You got stabbed on the back on the ground,” said Seifer, shooting him an annoyed glance. “And I didn’t get a single injury. Who’s the stupid one again?”

 

“You—”

 

Quistis grabbed Seifer’s arm and started towing him back to Squall and Rinoa, who were waiting a little distance away for appearances. High-ranking people did not grab prisoners themselves, that was for _peons._ There was also the practical aspect of Rinoa technically being a civilian and Squall still being under contract to ‘protect her’, which meant no approaching the dangerous fugitive until he was properly contained. 

 

“OW, Trepe, what the hell—” Seifer complained, while offering no resistance to being pulled.

 

“Don’t be such a juvenile, you’ve had worse,” Quistis retorted. She could tell he was getting some kind of amusement out of this scenario and decided she might as well, too. “Besides, I know you’ve missed being pulled around by a strong woman.”

 

 _“Oh dear, was that too much?”_ Quistis thought suddenly, and glanced back at Seifer. He looked surprised, but not particularly dismayed or traumatized. His next volley confirmed he was very much still in the game.

 

“Hey, at least I got to see the Sorceress’s boobs,” Seifer said, and by now the search team and Zell had caught up with them. Zell’s mouth dropped in yet another expression of comical awkwardness, while Brount snorted and the girls looked annoyed.

 

“That’s all it takes for you?” Alia demanded. “Boobs?”

 

“What? You jealous, _Flatley?”_

 

“Alia, don’t,” said Nina as her friend raised her weapon for another whack. “He’s just trying to piss you off.”

 

“Yeah, and it’s working!”

 

“How old are you now?” Nina asked more sharply, which made Alia grumble and fold her arms. 

 

“So,” said Seifer to Quistis. “I see you’re still an ice queen. Haven’t had any action lately, have you? You know, since I might be dying soon and all, I could request—”

 

“Oh shut up,” said Quistis, giving his elbow a reassuring squeeze and his arm an irritated shake. “That ship has sailed over the horizon.”

 

“How do you know it’s not a submarine?”

 

“What—”

 

“All the better to plumb your depths.”

 

“What!”

 

“Unless you got monsters in there or something—”

 

It took quite a lot of discipline not to burst out laughing and let everyone know how fond she actually was of him. Quistis controlled herself with a breath and said, “I have a lot of monsters in me, Almasy. But you wouldn’t want to see any of them. They’re the un-fun kind.”

 

Seifer didn’t say anything. When she glanced at him in anticipation of the next witty retort, she instead saw him looking… Worried? Why? But it was gone in a flash and Seifer grinned at her. 

 

“I don’t know, Trepe. You _are_ kind of fun when you _go wild,_ you know?”

 

“Oh my god, shut up,” said Zell, staring at Seifer with saucer-like eyes. “Please shut up. I don’t want to hear these things. Ever.”

 

“Pervert,” Alia grumbled.

 

Seifer chuckled. “You are all just jealous. I have been to the Holy Land and found it fair. Were I less a sinner, I would weep to return.”

 

“You stole that line from a cheesy old movie,” said Nina with a scowl, and that made Seifer laugh. By now they had reached Squall and Rinoa, who caught the last of the exchange and looked briefly offended.

 

“It’s from “The Sorceress’s Knight”, right?” Rinoa asked, and when everyone looked at Seifer in varying degrees of non-surprise, Rinoa said a little huffily, “And it’s a _great_ old movie.”

 

“It’s a cheesy old movie,” said Squall with absolutely no change of expression, which made everyone look at him in shock. Squall Leonhart watched movies? And he knew what cheesiness was? Rinoa was the only one not fazed.

 

“It is not!”

 

“The fighting is totally inaccurate—”

 

“Oh, Squall! You say that about everything!”

 

“The storyline makes no sense—”

 

“It’s supposed to be open-ended!”

 

“And every line is cheesy.”

 

“It’s dramatic!”

 

“Yes. Dramatic cheese.” And as Rinoa scowled, Squall finally looked at Seifer. The air cooled perceptibly between the two of them, making a natural silence fall over the assembled group. “…Seifer.”

 

“…Squall.”

 

“…You’ve made the right choice.”

 

“Oh, fuck you.”

 

For some reason that made Squall’s lips quirk in the most grudging of smiles. Aloud he said, “The Garden Council will be here as soon as the lockdown is lifted. And don’t think about running, either. Your chances are the worst they’ve ever been and fleeing will only make things worse for you.”

 

“God, Leonhart, you planning on becoming a traffic cop or something?”

 

“Beep beep,” said Squall, so deadpan that at first nobody was certain he’d actually said the words. Then before they could gape at him, he jerked his head at the waiting transport and said, “Let’s go.”

 

/\/\/\

 

a/n: I truly enjoyed writing out the jurisdictional slap fight.

 

/\/\/\/\/\


	46. Chapter 46

The transport was uncomfortably packed. After being patted down (Quistis did it, which resulted in more banter between her and Seifer that made Zell uncomfortable), Seifer ended up sitting between Nina and Brount with Squall, Quistis, and Alia on the other side. Zell and Rinoa took the pilot and co-pilot seats up front, which made Seifer somewhat nervous. Rinoa was an erratic driver and Zell, well… Everyone knew about the ladies’ restroom incident. As soon as the transport hummed to life Seifer tensed up, anticipating a lurch or a thud or even an explosion. It would certainly cap off one of the shittiest days of his entire life. 

 

“Commander…” 

 

“Yes, Nina?”

 

Nina looked at Squall with professional calm but picked at her nails nervously as she asked, “I don’t want this to come out wrong, but since Almasy surrendered instead of us bringing him in, what does that mean for our record?”

 

“Mission complete.”

 

“But do we, uh…”

 

“You’ll still be credited,” said Squall, and at once the search team eased up. “He wouldn’t have been in place to capture without all your hard work.”

 

Seifer scowled. Something about Squall’s guarantee pissed him off.

 

“If they hadn’t closed on me first, Kumi Na and her Bastards would have,” said Seifer, ignoring how the search team immediately glared at him. “And they’re not an army unit anymore, they’re ICSO. Which means your SeeDs lost out to bonded freelancers. What kinda credit do you give for that?”

 

“They’ve been tracking you since Fisherman’s Horizon,” said Squall, which made Seifer bristle. “They found you because of their investigative skills, not luck. So they’re getting credit based on the work they did.”

 

“But they didn’t get the outcome they were supposed to, and aren’t we always told that ‘close’ is just another word for ‘failure’?”

 

“Shut up,” said Brount heatedly, making Seifer sneer at him. “You petty son of a bitch, you can’t take this away from us.”

 

“There’s nothing to take. You didn’t do your jobs. You didn’t complete your mission.”

 

“Their mission was to find you,” said Squall as Brount swelled with fury. “And it was completed. Bringing you in was secondary.”

 

“Not to you, obviously,” said Seifer irritably. Now that the immediate danger was gone, all his adrenaline was transmuting into temper and since physical fighting was off the table, verbal sparring it was. “You sure jumped up quick to beat me down.”

 

Squall folded his arms, his  gaze very cold. “I could poke you in an exposed nerve cluster instead.”

 

Seifer glared but immediately shut his mouth. Like everything else that had happened when he’d been under Ultimecia’s control, torturing Squall in D-District Prison felt like recalling a scene from a grainy old movie; upsetting but artificial, and not just because it was so _wrong._ Obviously the memories were a lot clearer for the brunet man. 

 

“And at least Commander Leonhart isn’t going out of his way to destroy everything you love,” Brount quipped, which made Seifer direct his glare at him. “Although, the Sorceress _is_ dead, so I guess he already did that.”

 

“I never loved the Bitch Witch.”

 

“So what, she _paid_ you to bomb everybody and turn on your home?”

 

“I’m not going to explain what happened to _you,_ you whiny—”

 

“Fine with me, you’re going to explain it to the Council—”

 

“Brount, switch places with Alia and don’t say a word,” said Nina suddenly, making him blink at her. She folded her arms and said, “I’m getting real tired of this pissing contest.”

 

“Alia’s not going to be any quieter,” said Brount, nevertheless getting up. Seifer waited until the man’s focus was firmly on Nina before silently sticking his foot out, and Brount didn’t notice as he walked forward and said, “At least with me, I AHHH!”

 

“Wow, keen senses there,” Seifer drawled as Brount nearly went headfirst into Squall’s lap. Alia scowled at Seifer. 

 

“If you try that with me, I’ll break your instep,” she threatened.

 

“Now why would I be predictable?”

 

Alia glared and stood up, but without a word Quistis got up and took Brount’s seat next to Seifer. Everyone looked at her in surprise, though she crossed her legs and put her laced hands on top of her knees. 

 

“Uhh,” said Alia, her eyes darting from Seifer to Quistis and back again. Seifer was also mystified and not a little ticked. Quistis was going to be in a lot of trouble if people realized they were in love, so what the hell did she think she was doing?

 

Then Squall chuckled and laced his hands together. When Seifer glanced at him, the brunet was smiling.

 

“The hell’s your problem?” Seifer demanded, suddenly worried that Squall would give the secret away.

 

“Just remembering how Quistis used to make you behave in her classroom,” said Squall, which made Seifer scoff and roll his eyes. 

 

“Yeah, well, I can’t do 50 one-armed pushups with my hands tied, now can I?” He glared at Quistis for good measure. “And I don’t have to listen to you anymore, _Instructor.”_

 

Quistis turned a look of bland insincerity on him and put her fingertips right on top of the inside of his arm, her favorite pinching place. Seifer immediately wrenched away, his nerves already firing in anticipation of pain.

 

“Don’t—”

 

“Then don’t make me,” she said, her playful tone just a hair short of flirtatious. 

 

“Shit, I could’ve done that,” Brount grumbled as he took Quistis’s old seat. Seifer caught Squall’s barely perceptible eye roll and nearly smirked back. Like hell Seifer would have let Brount get as close as Quistis was now, and while she had her hands to herself, her warmth nevertheless thrummed pleasantly along Seifer’s left side. Seifer looked over at her, observing her professional appearance once again. He’d never thought of the field uniforms as being particularly attractive before, but the short-sleeved, mock-necked top skimmed Quistis’s body just short of distractingly clingy, and while the pants were loose for function, they nevertheless sat low enough to emphasize the generous spread of her hips and pulled really nice when she crossed her legs. Even combat boots looked more ladylike when Quistis wore them.

 

“Hey,” said Alia sharply, making Seifer glance at her. She patted her sidearms threateningly at him even as she kept them in their holsters. “Quit ogling SeeD Trepe.”

 

“I’m not ogling, I’m _reminiscing.”_

 

“Ugh!”

 

“Let him look,” said Quistis, which made Alia’s jaw drop. Shrugging with the definition of nonchalance, Quistis said, “It’s not like he’ll be able to do anything else.”

 

“Yeah but—”

 

“Plus Quistis has a boyfriend,” said Rinoa from the front, which resulted in yelps of shock (and horror?) from the Trepie team. Seifer would have laughed at their dismay except he was instead annoyed with Rinoa for throwing another wrench into his and Quistis’s fun time. Oh, she probably thought she was helping, but ‘the boyfriend’ was just something else to remember about their game. 

 

“You have a boyfriend?” Seifer asked Quistis, trying to find the right note of disbelief. As far as everyone else was concerned, he and Quistis hadn’t seen each other since the end of the Time Compression and of course he would have no idea about her life. In fact, his last clear memory of her would be the two of them going on a mission together… And actually being together. 

 

“It’s been a whole year, Seifer,” said Quistis, giving him a masterfully crafted look of defiance and slight embarrassment. “And like I said before, you lost your chance when you didn’t come back.”

 

Seifer mulled over how to proceed from this point, unaware that he was giving off an impression of sulking. Quistis stretched distractingly, lacing her hands above her head and pulling up towards the ceiling in a luxuriant motion that reminded Seifer of much better times _and_ made her tight uniform top stretch in nice ways. 

 

“So keep looking and keep being jealous,” she said, ‘ignoring’ him. “My life is going _very_ well, thank you.”

 

“Yeah, but do you like it?”

 

She shot him an annoyed look and immediately Seifer felt like kicking himself. There was no point to bringing in a real issue to their play-fighting time, especially because it wasn’t like he could change her mind: if Quistis ever felt like leaving SeeD, it was definitely not going to be any time soon. Look at how fast she was back in uniform! She sure hadn’t brought it with her, which meant she’d either had her stuff shipped in or was borrowing out of the common pool. For whatever stupid reason, Quistis was happy to be back in the saddle and she’d resist getting dragged out of it at all costs, which meant all Seifer could do was wait for her to come to her senses. 

 

He chose to not to think about the fact that all he could do in any foreseeable future was ‘wait’, because just the concept of sitting around for something to happen to him grated against his every nerve. Beyond that were the myriad unpleasant possibilities of certain deaths, both official and revenge-driven. Seifer was sure Squall wouldn’t put him anywhere unsafe, but SeeDs specialized into breaking into places to either extract or dispatch well-guarded targets, and if someone decided to take a shot at him, well… Seifer did not want to wait for that. Fire simmered under his skin, distractingly alive and solid-feeling after being pulled through the sword, and the witch-marks all over his body seemed to tighten around him again. Without a doubt, Seifer knew he could escape the hovercraft.

 

_“But we’re flying, so I’d end up falling through the air. Esthar’s still locked down, so I still can’t run. And I’d probably have to kill everyone in here to actually get anywhere, which I’d prefer not to do. So I’ll… Wait. For now. There’s going to be better opportunities to run in the future.”_

 

The rest of the ride was quiet. From his seat in the back Seifer couldn’t see anything, but he was aware when the craft began to drop and then finally settled on something. Everyone put their hands on their weapons and stood up, but Seifer remained seated. He didn’t feel like getting clocked for moving before people were ready, even though he was sure that Squall would make the right noises of disapproval on his behalf. He was more worried about Quistis’s reaction. When Alia had whacked him in the back of the head earlier, he had seen her eyes literally flash with temper—not laser lights, but with a cat’s reflective pupils as her eyes rapidly refocused. If someone took a real swing at him, she would get _pissed_ and that wouldn’t bode well for anyone. 

 

Of course, no one noticed that he was being a good little prisoner. Nina grabbed his arm and hauled him onto his feet with a muttered, “Don’t be childish, Almasy.”

 

And just for that, Seifer deliberately made as much of himself be dead weight as possible. It was childish, but avenues of meaningful resistance were few and he’d take what he could get.

 

The back door of the transport opened, revealing three SeeDs; two were in field uniform and one was in formal, though her shoulders were Galbadian red instead of Balamb blue. Seifer blinked when he recognized the Galbadian SeeD; she had been part of the faculty panel that had graded his final field exam and passed him into SeeD. 

 

“Little Sir,” she said coldly, which made Seifer wince inside. Oh yeah… She probably remembered him for other reasons.

 

“Hello Agatha,” said Seifer as Nina led him down the back of the transport, with everybody else forming a loose ring around him. Quistis stayed on his left and near enough for him to be aware of her body heat, though she obviously couldn’t offer more support than that. 

 

“Status on room 19?” Squall asked, making Agatha look at him.

 

“It’s ready,” she said, though her lips thinned somewhat. “And we stocked it with enough food for a week, so we shouldn’t have to check on him in that time.”

 

“Good.”

 

 _“They’re leaving me unguarded?”_ Was Seifer’s first thought, followed by, _“Which means the room’s got its own protection… Shit, I bet they’re sticking me aboveground. Fucking wonderful. Even if the Beasts don’t get me, I’ll choke and die before I get anywhere. Pretty smart, Leonhart.”_

 

The group of SeeDs (plus Rinoa, who swore she was coming along just to make sure he was going to be treated humanely) surrounded Seifer and walked him through the hangar to a lift, which was rather fancier than he’d anticipated. Not that anything in New Esthar was shabby, but this was actually kind of ornate instead of just incidentally pretty. It at least gave Seifer something to look at during the ride, which was long enough to confirm his suspicions of going to the surface. Seifer would never admit it aloud to strangers, but being on the surface made him nervous. He’d never gone up without a mask on, so as soon as the elevator stopped, Seifer immediately took a breath and held it in reflex. In his time in the XDI, he had seen a couple of mask failures and one fatality due to it, and he had no desire to die hacking his lungs up in bloody chunks or coughing so hard that his eyes popped out. But when the door opened, there was no red haze outside. There was instead a nice clean hallway that was still ornate and even rather wide, and when the group moved in, Seifer was surprised to see that it actually looked like a residential area. There was a wide-open sitting area, actual potted plants, and a couple of screens that were showing pleasant outdoor scenes. 

 

“I think I like Estharian jails,” he quipped. 

 

“This is a special circumstance,” said Squall while other members of the group scoffed or chuckled. “Once the lockdown is lifted, you’ll be transferred to conventional containment in Balamb Garden.”

 

Conventional containment, his ass. As the head of the DC, Seifer was very familiar with all the ins and outs of Balamb Garden, and he even knew of a few places that weren’t on the official blueprint—then again, he remembered the thing being built, and even remembered Cid yelling at him and Squall to quit playing in the construction zones. Seifer wondered if Squall remembered any of that too, but then decided not to ask. Seifer would need at least a few secrets in the days to come if things turned out to be shitty. In any case in Seifer’s recollection, Balamb Garden had no formal holding cells. And there weren’t many places where cells could be made, but a couple that could be reconfigured for that very purpose. The only question was how secure did they want him to be and how much did they think he could do? Depending on any number of factors, escape might be easy or impossible.

 

The current cell turned out to be down a hallway and around a corner, and Seifer noted the route back to the elevator without being obvious about it. Now familiar with the way Estharian surveillance looked, Seifer glanced at the ceilings and noticed that every surveillance orb was enabled; well of course, this area had power, so why wouldn’t it have video? He noted the placements of the orbs and grimaced when he realized they covered the entire hall. Whatever escape he made would have to either be very fast or such an overwhelming show of force that it wouldn’t matter if he was caught on camera. Both seemed unlikely for various reasons, but the day was still young and Seifer was going to have a lot of time to figure things out. Hopefully…

 

Agatha unlocked the door to the cell and the group parted to let Nina and Quistis take Seifer inside. Zell followed too, and as he ‘unlocked’ the cuffs with a precisely timed Blizzard and Thunder spell, Seifer sized up where he was going to be staying in the near future. It was about the size of the SeeD compartment in a normal train and had three bunk beds built into one of the walls. There was a bathroom on the other side and a minifridge in the corner. Seifer noted that every other piece of furniture had been moved out and that even the sheets were gone—well, it didn’t make sense to leave anything that might be remotely useable for a trained mercenary to turn into a weapon. There was a very large window on the opposite side of the room, but considering that it looked directly out onto the red ruins of the surface, Seifer did not for one second think of breaking it and using the shards against his captors. 

 

“This entire floor is locked down, so even if you escape the room, you still have nowhere to go,” said Squall as the cuffs broke off in pieces. Seifer automatically rubbed his wrists and then noticed that his second disguising bracelet was gone. Swiftly he glanced at the floor and then at the broken pieces of the cuffs, which Zell was holding. Inside the milky fragments were barely visible chunks of black titanium. Seifer wrestled with a surprisingly strong urge to take them back. Instead he rubbed his stomach and felt the broken links from the first one still scraping over his skin. One was better than nothing. He hoped. 

 

“If something breaks in through the window, we’ll be alerted,” said Squall, and Seifer noticed a very basic pressure sensor on the big glass windows, much like something a paranoid homeowner would have as ‘proof’ against burglars. As Seifer snorted, Squall said, “Stay alive until reinforcements arrive.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” said Seifer, folding his arms and glaring. “Don’t suppose you’d actually give me a fighting chance with a weapon, would you?”

 

“No.”

 

“Tch.”

 

Squall shook his head in a slightly odd way. At first Seifer thought he was doing an Angelo impression but then all the SeeDs turned and left, and Seifer realized that Squall had gotten everyone trained to his weird little mannerisms. The urge to laugh warred with a pulse of jealousy. Seifer knew Squall well enough to know that the guy did not like being in command and wasn’t making the best of his situation either. If their places had just been switched… Or hell, if Squall could just be honest with himself and give the damn job to someone else…

 

_“But like somebody else I know, he probably thinks SeeD needs him.”_

 

That ‘somebody else’ left too, of course. Quistis didn’t look back at him or even glance his way, but of course she couldn’t. Seifer was glad. He didn’t want to have to worry about her on top of the problems he was already having. 

 

“I’ll see you soon,” said Squall, turning to go as well. But there was a good deal less professional coldness in his voice when he spoke, and as the door shut and locked behind him, Seifer realized he was actually a bit reluctant to see Squall go. Now Seifer was just alone with his thoughts, which was not a cheery prospect for the next however-many hours. 

 

After inspecting his room for anything useable or interesting (nothing, of course; not only were SeeDs thorough, but they knew every trick he did and then some) Seifer laid in the middle bunk bed and tried to think about where he’d possibly slipped up enough to have the search team actually find him. Squall had made some mention of them being after him since Fisherman’s Horizon, but did that mean the first time Seifer had gone through FH and stolen the camera-shy fabric? Or the second time, when he’d been staying with Raijin, Fujin, and Quistis? Sudden fear nearly made Seifer go cold as he realized that the three people he cared most about might be pulled down along with him, but the Trepies hadn’t acted weird around Quistis at all so that meant they hadn’t recognized her from anywhere. Then again, they were Trepies. They’d probably ignore Quistis doing anything she damn well wanted. But Fujin and Raijin… Had they been captured too? Seifer wracked his brains for the memory of their last communication but couldn’t come up with anything more solid than “a while ago”. Fuck. If they’d lost their new lives because they’d associated with him in their old ones, he was going to be beyond pissed. They deserved better. 

 

With nothing to do and no one to interact with, Seifer passed the time as best he was able. He took a shower and then walked around naked because he could. He watched the sun set for the first time in months, and was surprisingly moved as the red-gold disc dipped into the gleaming line of the ocean beyond. The burned, melted, and shot-up ruins of Old Esthar took on a ghostly beauty by the light of the deceptively peaceful moon. Presently Seifer became aware of someone at his side, but only one being could penetrate both the defenses of the room and his perimeter without his knowledge. He bit back the reflex to snap at her and instead pretended she wasn’t there. Maybe she would go away without bothering him for once. 

 

“It looks like the Moon,” Ultimecia commented. She spoke with such certainty that Seifer couldn’t resist responding.

 

“You’ve been to the Moon?”

 

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “The old Terrans had interesting takes on magic. Once, I thought I’d find a peer there but it is a dead world covered in ruins like these. The search was interesting, but ultimately pointless.”

 

“How’d you breathe in space?”

 

“It had enough of an atmosphere.” She shrugged, the motion rippling down her wings and shoulders in a moonlit wave. “No _pneuma,_ of course. But enough to live on for a time.”

 

“Nooma?”

 

“ _Pneuma,_ you ignorant thing.” Somehow she sounded affectionate. Not for the first time Seifer thought Ultimecia loved to hear herself talk but by extension, she was indulgent towards those who would give her the opportunity. “The vital energy that flows through all beings. Martial artists call it _qi_ or chi. Every world has its own unique energy, and if that energy should leave or be depleted, the planet dies and turns into a moon. Hence, Terra.”

 

Seifer mulled over this. The information made sense relative to itself, but what bothered him what was that it tied in with some of the stuff Quistis had told him. This hallucination of Ultimecia was getting more detailed the longer it stuck around. 

 

“Your lover, Quistis.”

 

Seifer bristled. “Keep her name out of your mouth.”

 

“She has their blood.”

 

Seifer glared. He was not surprised by the information: everything Quistis had learned about her blue magic and the ancient Terrans, she had told him. It was cool and more than that, Seifer loved to see her eyes light up when she talked about that stuff. Hearing Ultimecia refer to it in such an insulting way made him bristle. “Why’s that any of your business?”

 

“You should be careful.”

 

Seifer rolled his eyes, unable to believe they were having this conversation. “She’s on birth control.”

 

“Hmph. That’s the least of your problems.” Ultimecia looked at him sidelong, a humorless smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve grown apart and don’t even know it.”

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“Neither of you are human any more.”

 

Seifer glared at her balefully. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

Ultimecia looked him straight-on and something in Seifer’s chest froze at the sight of her hot golden eyes. A second later he cried out as pain raked all over his body in terrifyingly precise trails that scored up from his hands and feet to fly into his chest. He looked down, his skin crawling in anticipation of cuts and blood, but instead bright white light shone out of the marks Ultimecia had carved into him over a year ago. Edea had called them ‘marks of dominion’ and had told him that they’d made him obey Ultimecia. The lights were so bright that they shone through his clothes like he wasn’t wearing any, but there was a spot around his heart that glowed like a flame, burning away the white light and a growing panic before it could overwhelm him. 

 

“What indeed,” Ultimecia deadpanned. “You have inherited the most powerful fire lore of your generation. You have cheated death twice, once by my power and once by the Phoenix. You destroyed a Guardian Force. _And_ you are still my knight, which means the power of Hyne runs through you. Every time you use it or your fire, you burn more of your humanity away. Haven’t you noticed how much more alive you feel whenever you call up a flame? It is because you are freeing yourself from that mortal shell.”

 

“It’s because all this shit becomes easier with practice,” Seifer snarled back, covering his dreadful and sudden doubt with fury. “I’m not becoming any less human!”

 

“Even if you aren’t, your lover is. Every transformation she masters, every skill she refines, the more monstrous she becomes. It is not an insult, but a fact. She is literally evolving into a different species.”

 

“SHUT UP!”

 

“You have seen the lingering scales on her legs, her eyes gleaming in the dark, the way she scents the world…” Ultimecia chuckled. “But then again, denying the truth has always been your specialty.”

 

Even though she was just a hallucination, Seifer swung at Ultimecia anyway. His haymaker went through her head and smashed into the window, sending pain shooting up all the way to his shoulder. Seifer barely noticed, suffused with a fury born of a dreadful and sudden doubt. 

 

“I’m curious to see what happens,” said Ultimecia, literally fading before his eyes. “Will you recognize the monsters within yourselves or see them inside each other first?”

 

“Shut up! Shut up, you bitch!” Seifer raged, but it was no use; she was gone and she would never listen. Who had to listen when they were right? Even as the lights faded under his skin, the sensation of fire thrumming within him made Seifer feel ill instead of invincible. What if she was right? What if he wasn’t human anymore? What did that make him? What did it mean?

 

…What did it _change?_

 

Seifer took deep, steadying breaths and forced himself to face the facts. He’d been doing a lot of that since getting his mind back and it still wasn’t comfortable, but it was necessary. So what if he wasn’t ‘human’? He was no different than he’d been a minute ago and he wasn’t going to be different in the minute to come. The power had always been inside him one way or another. Ultimecia wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t true, but the way she’d said everything had been crafted purely to inspire panic. She was just screwing with him like she always did. She liked to make him lose control and rage. This was just more of the same. 

 

 _“Plus, if I didn’t turn out to be_ human _or whatever, Quistis is the best one I could possibly be in love with. Ultimecia said it herself, we’re both moving away from the normal human model. Even if we’re moving in different directions, we’re still moving together. It’s fine. It’s just fine. If all the crap I’ve done and everything that’s happened doesn’t make Quistis look at me any different, nothing will. And I know she’s_ her _no matter what skin she’s wearing too. I know that better than anyone else.”_

 

So he told himself, but it didn’t quite stick. Ultimecia had a way of getting under his skin with things that were just true enough to catch his ear and then flit away to let his imagination do the rest. Too bad there was nothing to burn. Seifer conjured a small ball of fire in his hand and considered throwing it just to vent his temper, but then thought better of it. He had been experimenting with hotter and hotter flames. Wasn’t now the perfect time to find out just how hot and precise he could make them? Say, like, blowtorch-hot? No door could stand against those kinds of flames for long. After casually checking to see if he could be spied on (he couldn’t, not from the front anyway; his back was to the surveillance orb and the window had no monitoring devices that he could tell), Seifer spent the rest of the time ‘playing’ with fire. Focusing on the restless energy successfully occupied and exhausted him until it was time to sleep, and that night he unwillingly dreaming of black-winged sorceresses and blond, blue-eyed women who laughed over his downfall. 

 

/\/\/\

 

The wing currently allotted to SeeD had once been for live-in presidential security, which means it was as solid and secure as anyone might desire. It felt very much like being back in the Garden, though Squall’s office here did not boast floor-to-ceiling windows and views of rolling plains. Squall’s temporary office more closely resembled a secondary situation room, though the desk he used was not supposed to light up with any number of maps and information from Esthar, and he was typically in it alone. When Quistis went with him to report on her findings, she noticed there was only one chair and wondered if that was Squall’s method of making sure people didn’t stay long. Xu had done the same thing when she’d been the Assistant Headmaster: she was not interested in a whole story most of the time, just the pertinent facts. 

 

 _“Or maybe there are just no chairs to go around,”_ thought Quistis as Squall leaned against the table and folded his arms, ignoring the chair completely.

 

“He’ll be fine,” said Squall, making Quistis incline her head. “Before we left, I locked that lift to my thumbprint and retinal scan. Nobody’s getting to Seifer without my approval.”

 

“Or your eyeball and thumb.”

 

“They’d have to get them first,” said Squall, unperturbed. His impassive look softened slightly as he said, “I can’t let you see him. Not right now, when everything is so messed up.”

 

Quistis nodded even though a disappointed surge crashed in her chest. “That’s fine. We should be concentrating on our defense, anyway.”

 

“Agreed. What did you find out by looking at the corpse in the morgue?”

 

Quistis summarized her findings, silently taking note of every time Squall frowned slightly or looked confused at what she was saying. To his credit, he catalogued his questions until she was done speaking and only then started asking her questions more specific to blue magic and her conclusions. It became clear after a few questions that even after all their time together, Squall knew very little about blue magic but at least wasn’t frightened or openly disbelieving of what he heard. When Quistis was done explaining the last point of confusion (blue-mage specific sight, which she didn’t know how to accurately explain without third-party data to back her up), Squall was quiet for a long time. Quistis waited patiently, but her attention started to stray a little after the first minute. Now that Seifer was in custody, there was a sense of guilty relief in the back of her head that she didn’t like. Surely planning discreet rendezvouses was not _that_ much of a stress on her mind, was it? And was a bit of peace worth what might happen to Seifer? No.

 

“Your new mission is more blue magic research,” Squall said abruptly, making Quistis first startle and then stare. “I need you to find out more about blue magic.”

 

“You don’t want me on the investigation on the attack?”

 

“No.” And Squall must have been learning how to be a better leader, because instead of just leaving it at that, he gestured with an oddly Laguna-like wave of the hand and said, “We have people who can investigate what happened. But you’re the only one who knows about blue magic.”

 

“Exactly, so—“

 

“Blue magic was the gun. I want the shooter.” Squall lifted his hand slightly in a half-formed silencing gesture as Quistis began to protest. “At the same time, it’s a kind of weapon that only you know about at the moment. We need to know everything it’s capable of and you’re the only one who can do that research. That makes you more valuable than one-third of an investigation team.”

 

Quistis frowned. She understood his logic quite well (she’d taught him how to think that way, at least a little), but that didn’t stop her from feeling sidelined. She put her hands on her hips, trying not to scowl too much.

 

“Let me at least brief the team about what they might be coming up against.”

 

“Not yet.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Squall’s eyes flicked to the side, his shoulders edging towards his ears. “Because…”

 

“…Because you’ve already assigned Nina, Alia, and Brount to the mission, haven’t you, and you think it’ll be awkward for me to work with them.”

 

Squall’s lips thinned. “They’re the best ones suited for a mission like this, considering they’ve spent the better part of the last year locating someone who didn’t want to be found. And more than that, they’re the only ones alive in the area with the pertinent and recent experience.”

 

“That still doesn’t mean I shouldn’t talk to them. If nothing else, my information will help them refine their search.”

 

Squall looked at her for a long time, expression tight and betraying nothing. But this was Squall. He didn’t need to talk for Quistis to know exactly what he was thinking. 

 

“I don’t begrudge them doing their jobs. I’m certainly not going to hamstring them or plot their downfall, and I’m angry you’d even entertain the idea. I’m a professional, Squall.”

 

“It’s not that,” said Squall, shaking his head. “I’ve read every single one of their reports. In December Nina went to Fisherman’s Horizon on a suspicion of Seifer being there, and she documented an incident in which she tried to break into an apartment she thought belonged to Raijin. She instead met a man and a woman who complained about sewage, but the smell didn’t resemble sewage to Nina at all. It smelled like a Malboro’s Bad Breath.”

 

Quistis said nothing even as her organs seemed to freeze entirely solid. She remembered the incident, of course; it had been a very expedient way to chase Nina away from the apartment, especially considering that Nina had been disguised as a repair worker. Quistis had been in disguise and so had Seifer, but nevertheless it had been the closest call they’d had. It could have been less close, though, if Nina had never been able to submit her report in the first place. The notion of the theoretical murder made Quistis ill despite her personal panic, compelling her to speak.

 

“Even so, I don’t want them to be unprepared. I told you that Seifer and I faced a transformed blue sage in that supply depot and considering everything we’ve lived through, it was a very close fight.”

 

“You were also unjunctioned, short a member, and neither of you were using your primary weapons,” said Squall, which made Quistis grumble internally. “Besides, this investigation isn’t relying on old secondhand evidence, and they’re going to have plenty of backup available; I can’t imagine there’s not a single SeeD who wouldn’t jump into the fray right now. You’re more valuable in other capacities.”

 

Quistis sighed, but couldn’t muster any further objections that might actually have traction. “Fine. I’ll go back to my research then. Do we have records of the Lunar Beasts faced by SeeD teams?”

 

“Yes, they’re backed up here.”

 

“Then I need a free terminal.”

 

“Talk to SeeD Nanae, she’s in charge of supply,” said Squall, which made Quistis quash a flare of annoyance. “And if you need anything else for your research, let me know.”

 

“There is one thing…”

 

“Yes?”

 

“It may not be pertinent, though,” cautioned Quistis, which made Squall’s brows raise. “In Shumi Village I received a crystal that, umm… Well, it might have to do with blue magic in a big way, but not directly. More, hmm… Culturally and psychologically than power-wise. I’d like to learn more about it because I don’t what it can do or what it’s even for, but it requires taking the crystal to some kind of Estharian analysis facility. I don’t trust any other country’s technology to have the precision and finesse I need.”

 

Squall frowned as he started sorting through the politics. Just then the phone on Squall’s temp desk suddenly lit up, and an eternally chipper artificial voice said, “Professor Piet Anthony of the Xenobiological Defense Initiative calling. Will you take the call?”

 

Squall looked pained but sighed, “Yes,” and rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned to face the eastern wall as a subtle click transferred the call. Quistis held up her hand to discreetly signal that she was leaving but instead jumped when an image of a man popped up on a screen near the desk, exactly where Squall was facing. The quality was crisp enough that the caller—male, middle-aged, reassuring and plump in a fashion like Dr. Kadowaki—looked like he was just on the other side of a window.

 

“It’s been a long time, Commander Leonhart,” said Prof. Anthony, who was wearing a neat white Estharian take on a lab coat. Just like the video, the audio was crisp too, transferring the sound of voice with ease. He seemed relaxed and even amused to see Squall. “I see you’ve been keeping busy since the Lunar Base.”

 

“I am. What can I help you with, Professor Anthony?” 

 

“I understand you must be quite busy at this time, but I have to discuss the case of Seifer Almasy with you.”

 

“How so?” Asked Squall. He made no gesture for Quistis to leave, so she stayed where she was. Apparently the camera couldn’t see her. 

 

“For the past three months, Seifer Almasy has been working for us as a combat consultant at the XDI and become quite close to one of our high-ranking commanders. He was exposed to a variety of sensitive information and we have to determine exactly what he knows.”

 

Squall’s look became so flat that it could have been used to level mirrors, and Quistis could practically see the urge to shake Seifer until his brains rattled radiating off him. Instead Squall said, “I have sympathy for your situation, Professor, but that sounds more like a problem with your internal security than something SeeD should be concerned with. Seifer Almasy is in isolation and will not be speaking to anyone until the Garden Council arrives. I will not transfer him to the XDI for a debriefing.”

 

“Understood, Commander,” said Prof. Anthony, unperturbed despite Squall’s rudeness. “However, the information Almasy was possibly exposed to is on the level of national security issues and we _must_ determine his level of understanding as soon as possible. I understand there are custody contention issues, but so may I suggest that instead of bringing Almasy to the XDI, we instead send someone to debrief him in your base?”

 

“If the information is that sensitive, I’m surprised you’d be willing to possibly expose it in an unaffiliated stronghold.”

 

“It’s sensitive only if you know the other pieces,” said Prof. Anthony confidently. “I should also mention that this has to do with the Lunar Beast breaches, so the matter _is_ time sensitive. We only need one hour. His information will not only help us determine the nature of the breaches, but also lift the lockdown sooner rather than later.”

 

Squall’s eyes narrowed, then flicked to Quistis. “One moment,” said Squall to Prof. Anthony, touching a button on his desk phone to presumably silence and blind the call, and then looking at Quistis.

 

“Will the XDI have the facilities you need?” He asked, making Quistis blink.

 

“It’s the exact facility I was hoping for, actually.”

 

Squall grunted his acknowledgment, but didn’t look entirely convinced. He was quiet for a few seconds and then sighed heavily before opening up the call again.

 

“Professor Anthony, I am not unopposed to the XDI interrogating Almasy for the safety of Esthar. However, I need something of you in return.”

 

“That depends,” said the older man, now looking wary. “What could I possibly do for the Commander of SeeD?”

 

“One of my SeeDs, Quistis Trepe, has a sample that needs to be analyzed with the XDI’s equipment. If you agree to examine this sample for one hour and turn over all findings to the Garden as soon as they come in, then I will give you access to Seifer Almasy.”

 

“What sort of sample is it?”

 

“A mineral. More specifically, a crystal.”

 

“A crystal?” Now Prof. Anthony seemed both perplexed but intrigued, which Quistis took as a good sign. “And what makes this crystal so special?”

 

“It might have to do with the attack on our outpost,” lied Squall, which made both Quistis and the professor’s brows raise. “Which appears to be deliberate.”

 

“Deli…” Prof. Anthony boggled a bit, but then shook his head. “I see. Well, I understand your urgency then. I have to relay your conditions to my colleagues. Can I call you back in one hour?”

 

“One hour exactly.”

 

“Thank you very much, Commander Leonhart,” said Prof. Anthony, inclining his head. “XDI out.”

 

“Garden out,” said Squall as the screen went blank. He then looked at Quistis, who was regarding him with mild surprise. “What?”

 

“That was neatly done, Squall. You’ve been working hard.”

 

Squall huffed, but didn’t look displeased at her assessment. Not at all, if the little upward curl of his otherwise thinned lips was any indication. “Yeah.”

 

“I’ll get to work on what I can do here, then. Once I get a terminal assignment from SeeD Nanae, I’ll message your desk so you’ll know where to find me.”

 

“Good.” Squall rubbed his face. “If you end up going to the XDI, take Rinoa with you.”

 

“Rinoa? Why?”

 

“You need backup. Rin can be spared since she’s not official.”

 

Quistis frowned. “Does she know you’re deploying her?”

 

“She wouldn’t want you to go by yourself,” said Squall, but at the same time tapped his temple in a way that Quistis immediately found significant. Apparently his skills as a Commander was not the only thing Squall had ‘improved’ over the last year, though the idea of mentally bonding with someone made Quistis feel a little uncomfortable. On the other hand, if it worked for Squall and Rinoa, then that was just fine for them. 

 

That settled, Quistis went in search of the supply officer, one Agatha Nanae. She hoped the woman would be more pleasant this time around, but didn’t plan on it. Indeed, when she found Agatha in the supply room busily talking to several SeeDs, she couldn’t even make eye contact with the woman for several minutes and when Agatha was finally free, she glanced at Quistis and then immediately looked at her handheld tablet, which was smaller than normal issue: Quistis suspected it might be a repurposed personal device since so much equipment had been destroyed at the outpost. 

 

“Is there something you need, SeeD Trepe?”

 

“Yes. Commander Leonhart asked me to do some research into Lunar Beasts. I need a terminal that has access to our records of them.”

 

“Of course you do,” Agatha muttered. Quistis pretended not to hear, mostly because antagonism was pointless in a crisis situation. And Agatha did look very busy, between yet another group of SeeDs coming to talk to her and the speedy swiping and tapping over her tablet. To her credit, she held her hand up at the new group when they immediately converged on her with a babble of noise (something about an uneven distribution of para-magic) and ignored them until she was finished with her task. “Trepe?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Go talk to Dincht. He’s got a tablet hooked to our records but it’s not online right now. You can use his.”

 

“Alright. Where can I find him?”

 

“Figure it out,” said Agatha shortly, which made Quistis thin her lips but leave. The uncomfortable looks on the new SeeDs’ faces was mildly validating, however. It made such a nice change from the early part of her SeeD career, where public snubbing was often met with averted gazes and silent agreement that ‘the _upstart_ was finally being treated appropriately’. 

 

So Quistis went in search of Zell. A few inquiries from passing SeeDs placed him in the cafeteria, where she found her normally ebullient friend poking at something that looked like pasta made of brown cardboard. Properly dressed, ration bricks could look appealing. This was not one of those times.

 

“Hey Zell,” said Quistis, making him glance up at her. 

 

“Hey, Quistis,” he sighed, leaning gratefully away from his food. Now that there was no particular urgency, she noticed his scent; briny like the sea, a type of dryness that reminded her of summer thunderstorms. As Quistis mused over the fancies of her brain’s interpretations, Zell said, “How are you feeling?”

 

“Me? I’m fine. I need to borrow your tablet, though. I need to research Lunar Beasts.”

 

“Yeah, sure. Come with me.” Zell swung out of the table and set off down the hall at a brisk pace, the way Quistis would have moved if she’d kept in fighting trim the entire year. As it was, she had to jog a little to catch up to him despite his shorter legs. “So…”

 

“Yes?” Quistis tried not to sound impatient, having a feeling that she knew what Zell was about to say. 

 

He glanced up and down the hall before whispering, “Are you really okay with… You know?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Okay because like… Well… You know, Squall jumped out into space for Rinoa so—”

 

Quistis arched her brow. “Shall I tell Seifer you think he’s Rinoa in this situation?”

 

“No! I mean…” Zell snickered. “Maybe just to see his face. But I mean…”

 

“I know what you mean, and it’s fine.”

 

“Yeah but…”

 

“Zell, the way I feel about this situation isn’t really your problem. Or to be frank, your business,” said Quistis as kindly as she could, which still made Zell droop a little but nod in understanding. She stifled a surge of dismay as she realized that _everyone_ who knew the truth was going to pester her about this now. _Why aren’t you more upset, why aren’t you helping him escape, aren’t you guys really in love—_ ugh. It was neither the right time nor place to plot an escape, and just because she wasn’t tearing her hair out meant she cared any less. She had things to focus on other than love! Besides, Seifer had been very clear throughout the entirety of their relationship that he wanted her to make her own choices, which meant he would definitely not approve of her trying to mount of a rescue because of an obligation about _romance tropes._ In fact, Quistis rather thought he’d be incredibly insulted. 

 

“So what’s Squall got you reading up on Beasts for?” Zell asked as they went into his room.

 

“It has to do with the attacks.” She looked at Zell thoughtfully. “We have surviving personnel who faced the attackers, right?”

 

“Yeah. You wanna talk to them?”

 

“Yes, as soon as possible.”

 

Zell nodded, his eyes lighting up. “I can get you a list of names and see who’s well enough to talk.”

 

“That would be wonderful! Thank you, Zell.”

 

“Aww, it’s no problem,” said Zell with a bright smile that fell just a little flat. “ _This_ I can do something about.”

 

He left then, making Quistis sigh with the uncomfortable realities that the SeeD life was impressing upon her friends. Something about being out in the world for the past year had made her viscerally understand just how different their lives were from everybody else’s, most notably how quickly everyone had to grow up. Civilian children couldn’t wait to be grownups, but mercenary ones never had a choice.

 

Nevertheless Quistis sent a location update to Squall and then applied herself to study. She didn’t need the Tome at the moment; she had read it enough that she knew every Beast depicted by sight if not by its fanciful Terran name, and as she scrolled through files of every Lunar Beast thus far encountered, she mentally checked off the ones in her mind against the ones she was currently seeing. Her stomach was curling with something that kept changing from excitement to dread and back again, so fast that it almost made her nauseous when she dwelled on the sensation too long. The Tome’s creatures were real and running around, which meant the secret missive in its pages was just as real too… So who was running around fulfilling them? Because in the Tome’s playbook, the first thing to do was to call down the Cry, the second thing was to control the Beasts that came out of it, and the third… The third was to remake the world in Terra’s image. 

 

_“What would that even look like? Would the entire world be covered in miasma? Would we turn as white as the surface of the moon? How long before this world was barren too? And even if something—alright, blue mages and Lunar Beasts—survived, how long could that last? If anyone is seriously buying into the Tome’s version of how things should be, do they understand that everybody on this world will have to die for that vision to come true? Do they care?”_

 

Had the release of Lunar Beasts in New Esthar been a test run?

 

Before the thought could freeze her to the core, the tablet suddenly flashed and a scrolling notification at the top told her to go back to Squall’s office. Quistis left the tablet in Zell’s room and headed back to Squall’s, not particularly surprised when she encountered Rinoa outside the door. Or more accurately, Yarawac of the White SeeD uniform, green eyes, and red hair. Quistis gave her an amused SeeD salute, which Rinoa returned perfectly and with a little sardonic look of understanding. They went into the office together, silent until the doors closed behind them.

 

“I got the idea after visiting Edea a few months ago,” said Rinoa to Quistis’s unspoken question, and gestured at her White SeeD uniform. “While I was working on my sorceress stuff there, I saw a couple of White SeeDs doing things with para-magic I’d never imagined before.”

 

“The White SeeDs specialize in unconventional casting,” said Squall from his desk, his eyes on something he was reading on a screen. 

 

“But why ‘Yarawac’?” Quistis asked Rinoa. “Anagrams are fairly easy to penetrate.”

 

“Mostly because it sounds so ugly and weird that I instantly know what to do,” said Rinoa, which made Quistis chuckle. “We tried ‘SeeD Julia’ for a while, but it took me just a bit too long to remember what to do every time, especially when I wasn’t expecting it. When I hear ‘Yarawac’, I can pull this disguise on in a snap. And it lets me get into places that ‘Ambassador Heartilly-Caraway’ couldn’t, too.”

 

“You mean battle.”

 

“Totally battle. Also places where a Galbadian presence wouldn’t exactly be welcome, say… A classified Estharian facility.”

 

“They’re sending a transport for you and will be here in an hour,” said Squall, finally turning away from the computer on his desk. “Be on your guard. We’re not technically at odds with Esthar yet, but the miasma canister you told me about had to come from somewhere. If they weren’t responsible either for our attacks or the ones in New Esthar at large, they might still know who was.”

 

“Yes. Anything else I should watch for, aside from the usual?”

 

“Not that I can think of.” He hesitated a moment before adding, “I trust your judgment, Quistis. I always have.”

 

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” scolded Rinoa a little playfully, which made Quistis wonder what exactly had brought that on. Nevertheless, it made Quistis smile. 

 

“Thank you, Squall. I trust yours too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize this one was ready to go for so long. oooops


End file.
